SG-12 - Stories From The Second Row
by CUtopia
Summary: Did you ever wonder what the other SG-teams are doing while SG-1 is out to save the galaxy? Well, they certainly don't have an easier job, as the action is not reserved for our beloved parade team. Read about what the re-formed SG-12 comes across on their own gate travels!
1. First Impressions - Part 1

Okay, well, welcome to you who found this project of mine and decided to have a look. Have a cookie.

To explain how this works, seatbelts on: This is not a normal multichap. Experiences from the past showed that my failure rate at normal multichaps is *consults clipboard* uh, high. Therefore I decided to write this in episodes that are one to whatever chapters long and only loosely connected to each other. Means that only the relations of the team are going to be ongoing while the storyline of an episode will be finished after its last chapter.

Also I hereby swear to have finished the whole episode before posting part 1. Though it could take longer between episodes.

Oh, and this can be located in Season 6 :)

Anyway, I would be delighted if you had a few minutes to spare and left a review with your opinion. I am looking forward to your critique, opinions, cookie recipes, whatever :)

So, to the mandatory "Thank You" round:

Alice, my lovely crossover queen, thank you for helping me sort out all the problems and building all these ideas together. It always is a lot of fun, and it reassures me to hear feedback about my ideas! :)

RowenaR, thank you for sharing your knowledge concerning the military topics, and of course for all these tips you already gave me!

And to my fellow Wigtown Wanderers, Liza and Emily, who did a lot of spell checking!

* * *

 **First Impressions**

Part 1

Captain Fred McKenzie took a few deep breaths as he straightened his back and looked at his reflection in the mirror of the locker room. His blue United States Air Force dress uniform was sitting perfectly, just as his dark brown hair, his appearance giving him a lot of confidence. Still, he could not prevent the nervousness from creeping through his body as he left the locker room and headed towards the elevator, which was just happening to stop at this level.

Today was the day he had been waiting for some time, since being recruited for the Stargate Program one year ago. In a few minutes, he would meet the members of his very own SG-Team.

It was a huge task, but he was looking forward to it, and he had also worked hard to achieve this honourably recognition, something he knew happened extremely rarely to someone his age. There had been many candidates in line for the four posts on the SG-12 team, and the criterias for the team leader had been even more selective. However, when Colonel O'Neill had told him last week that he was less of an idiot than some others who had applied for the post, Fred had felt a little bit surer about the success of his own application. From Colonel O'Neill, these words were a huge compliment. And then, only a few days ago, General Hammond had asked him to come to his office, where he had informed him that he, Captain McKenzie, had been chosen to become the leader of SG-12 upon its reformation. Of course, receiving a spot on a team just because the original team members had all been killed during the evacuation of a Tok'ra base hadn't felt that good at first. However, he had come to terms with that, after reminding himself that this had happened so many times before and that he and his new team would honour their predecessors by doing a good job.

He was ripped from his thoughts as the elevator stopped at Level 27 and the doors opened in front of him. Excitement and nervousness battled inside of him as his feet carried him to the briefing room. The door was still opened, signalling to him that he could just enter. Fred could feel his heartbeat quickening as he walked over the threshold into the surprisingly silent room, his first glance being directed to the windows offering a view at the Stargate, before he looked over to the conference table. Three people were gathered around it, two men and a woman, all of them wearing the same uniform as Fred.

One of the men, a tall and muscular Master Sergeant with short blond hair, was familiar to Fred – he had seen him around the Stargate Command over the last year, while being a part of SG-10. If he remembered correctly, his team mates had called him Will and he was as calm as his blue eyes indicated when their gazes met for a brief second. The fact that he was there gave Fred a good feeling, as he knew this man had a lot of experience under his belt and was aware of what to expect when walking through the gate – something he couldn't say about the second man who was sitting in the chair to Will's left.

He looked extremely young and though he had black hair, there was nearly no sign of beard on his smooth skin. His young age was only confirmed by his rank and the slightly nervous expression in his dark eyes and, for a moment, the newly assigned leader of SG-12 asked himself if he had ever seen an Airman First Class on an active SG-Team. Fred didn't recognise him, just as the woman who was sitting across the table and had only briefly looked up when he had entered the briefing room.

Her reddish brown hair was bound back in a simple bun and her green eyes were staring down at the polished wood of the table. She had a beautiful face, but he thought he detected a flicker of annoyance and disgruntled awareness to cross her features, however, he was forced to take his attention from her as General Hammond entered. Immediately, everybody stood up to stand at attention, but the General just waved it off and asked them to sit down with an inviting gesture.

"Gentlemen, the lady... thank you all for being so overly punctual, I have a lot of phone calls to make today and the sooner we start, the sooner we will be done and able to focus on our work."

To underline his statement about his limited time, he nodded at the four soldiers before proceeding.

"I don't have to tell you why you're here, I guess. Anyway, congratulations for being part of the new SG-12. As far as I know, none of you have worked together in the past, so I will take the time to introduce you. Captain Frederick McKenzie was assigned to be your CO, he flew helicopters in Iraq and was chosen upon various recommendations of other SG team leaders he worked with."

Fred looked at the three soldiers with an acknowledging glance before returning his attention to the General. He was curious but also tense about who these people really were – he didn't got to choose his team members, something that he had not been exactly happy about at first, but he had decided to make the best of it.

"Captain McKenzie, your Second in Command is Captain Tessa Johnson, an excellent F-16 pilot. Colonel Ronson recommended her to the Stargate Command due to her widespread competences in military means."

Captain Johnson didn't smile as she nodded curtly to greet her fellow teammates and Fred wondered why her shoulders looked so tense when she wasn't showing any signs of nervousness. However, nobody except him seemed to notice that, as Hammond just continued to talk.

"Master Sergeant William Howard, he worked with SG-9 before and will from now on be your paramedic. I am sure that his experience will be greatly appreciated."

In contrast to Tessa, Will actually smiled as he raised a hand and mumbled a short "Hello". He looked considerably more comfortable in his skin than the youngest person in the room.

"And last, but not least, Airman First Class Joseph Martinez. He will support Sergeant Howard as the second medic."

Joseph's hands, that were lying on the polished surface of the table, were shaking slightly as he looked around, flurry dominating his features as he nodded while looking like he was desperately trying not to hide in a corner.

For a short moment, it was silent in the briefing room and Fred used this time to let his first impressions of his new team sink in. Of course, he couldn't say much about their competence for now, and as a good soldier, Captain McKenzie refrained from jumping to conclusions without having seen them out in the field. However, he couldn't hold his mind back from telling him what _Fred_ McKenzie thought about them, and he actually bit his tongue as these were things that he would never say out loud, for the sake of his integrity as an officer.

There was Martinez, who looked so young and fresh that he could just have wiped the mothermilk from the corner of his mouth. Seriously, what was he going to do with him? He surely wouldn't waste his time babysitting him on their missions... though Hammond surely hadn't assigned a man to his team who was completely inexperienced.

Will Howard, on the other hand... he looked like the typical soldier - tall, muscular, broad shoulders - and he had an air of experience around him. Fred was fairly sure that this man had been on some classified missions that he didn't really want to know about – he was actually more than happy that he hadn't been recruited by those people in Langley or whatever. Surely this guy would do whatever he ordered him to do, and he didn't know if this was to be considered a good or a bad thing.

And then of course, there was Captain Tessa Johnson.

Her blues were fitting perfectly, so he could see that she was uncommonly thin for a soldier. Honestly, she looked nearly fragile from what he could spot. If he thought about it, he had never seen a female soldier who looked so much like a supermodel – she really was beautiful by all standards. But though he really didn't have anything against women in the military (he had worked with numerous skilled female officers in the past) he couldn't help but feel negative about her presence.

It wasn't because she looked a little bit out of place here, a tiny bit too much like the delicate damsel in distress.

No, it was something else.

Maybe this feeling was being caused by witnessing how she obviously seemed to fight hard with herself, trying to conceal a rather angry or nearly hostile expression when her gaze wandered in his direction. It wasn't too obvious, of course, and he was sure that he wouldn't even have noticed it if he hadn't already been puzzled about her appearance. However, he didn't cross out the possibility that he had just imagined that. Or maybe he had justen mistaken her expression, he couldn't say what it was for sure.

Suddenly, General Hammond's voice stopped his thoughts from wandering any further, and a little part of him was more than thankful for that. He really didn't want to judge these people after knowing them for a mere five minutes.

"Currently, we have most of our teams off world, SG-12. You will travel to the Alpha Site for your training, Major Warren will join you tomorrow to supervise some of your exercises. So, change, prepare your gear and be in the ready room one hour from now. Dismissed."

Immediately, everybody rose from their chairs, saluting, and Hammond turned around to walk into his office, closing the door behind him. For a short moment, Fred felt anxiousness flooding him.

This was it. Now he was the one calling the shots, now he was the one who was responsible for these four soldiers, the one who had to make sure that they came home from interplanetary travels. And even though they would only be in training, and that for at least a few weeks, he felt shaky. Hell, he needed a moment to collect himself, somewhere in private.

Clearing his throat, he declared in his most professional tone:"Well, you heard the General. I'll see you in the ready room, fully equipped. Also, I will say some words if we should have time later."

With that, he spun around on the heels of his polished shoes and marched out of the room, hearing how the other three soldiers started to move as well.

OoO

Half an hour later, Fred entered the ready room, checking that straps of his thigh holster wouldn't be hindering him if he should be forced to move in any other form than upright. His team was already waiting for him and this time, he felt way more prepared. In fact, he had allowed himself to take his nervousness seriously this time, against his usual principle of the officer who placed duty over feelings. Therefore, while changing into the green battle dress uniform and gearing up, he had gone through a tiny little pep-talk in his head and had converted his feelings into a small speech. However, he of course wouldn't admit that he doubted if he really wanted to do this without some senior officer watching over him, able to correct him subtly if he did something wrong. Surely Major Warren wouldn't babysit him, and if he was honest, he didn't wanted him to do so.

Masking that he again had to take a few deep breaths, he let his gaze wander over his new team as if he was inspecting them, just as a sarge did when he had his new company standing in front of him. Now that he was wearing his combat uniform, and was checking the backpack with the medical equipment together with Airman Martinez, Sergeant Howard looked even more like a professional. Every movement of his was calm and showed the routine he had and somehow Fred felt a little bit more secure. Even though it looked a little bit as if Martinez would have loved to throw his weapons to the ground and run away.

To him, at least one thing seemed to be sure: That the Sergeant would support him if he had to continue to form the young Airman to a soldier; doubtlessly, Martinez would profit from the medical experience of the Sergeant. Thanks to his own knowledge, Fred could imagine that, no matter how good he had been trained until now, to Martinez, suddenly going into combat had to be terrifying. After all, this was a completely different cup of tea to the training scenarios, no matter how realistic their concept was, according to the drill sergeants.

With his feeling of security increased a little bit, Fred let his gaze wander over to his new 2IC. Captain Johnson was just securing her braid with a second hair band before proceeding to checking her P-90, which she had already hooked into its harness. And even though he had sworn himself that he would act and think completely professionally while on duty, he couldn't prevent one thought of crossing his mind: In her battle dress uniform, Captain Johnson looked even more like a supermodel that had been stuffed into a military uniform for some odd photoshoot. Or maybe more like a cadet that was still green behind her ears? Not like a professional soldier who had qualified for a top secret program that demanded elite soldier skills.

She was at least one foot smaller than Howard, and he estimated that she must have just met the lowest allowed height for the military service. Additionally, this uniform showed her skinny physique off even more. Really, it was as if she didn't have any muscles at all, and if he hadn't scolded himself inwardly he would have asked himself how she was able to carry all this equipment without her legs giving in under the weight. He really couldn't see her body being able to take the rigorous G-forces that a fighter pilot had to be able to tolerate.

On the other hand, the way she prepared her equipment showed a very professional side of her, building up quite a contrast to her general outer appearance. Of course, due to the circumstances, he hadn't had the opportunity to properly talk to her yet, but this only enforced the question mark that was virtually hovering over her head.

However, now was not the time for an extended train of thought, as a quick glance at his wristwatch told him that they were about to be officially on duty. Clearing his throat, he managed to pull the attention of all his team members towards him and he didn't let himself be influenced by all the different expressions they had on their faces.

Sergeant Howard looked calm and concentrated, just as Captain Johnson, though Fred thought that he had once again caught some kind of devaluation crossing over her features. Martinez, on the other hand, looked a tiny bit green around the nose and he was unable to completely conceal his fear and nervousness. But Fred assumed that this was normal to someone who hadn't really dealt with real pressure so far, another pressure than the of tests and examinations. Howard had obviously been in combat situations while working for the SGC, though those surely hadn't been the first ones for him and he would bet that this man had seen worse. Johnson - the General had mentioned that she was a fighter pilot, and Fred knew that these were the people with nerves of steel. He himself had been in some pretty dangerous situations during his deployment in Iraq and, well, his first off-world missions hadn't exactly been a stroll in the park either.

So surely none of them were unfamiliar with situations like this, except for Martinez, who was just too young to have come across such occasions. But there had to be a first time; he would keep an eye on him, but he would not pamper him.

Though he did notice how the young man squared his shoulders and suddenly looked a lot more confident when Fred started to speak.

"I would have preferred it if this had started off differently, and I think you will all agree with me when I say that this is going to be difficult, considering that we didn't have the time to get to know each other. However, I expect each of you to act as professionally as you always would, and we will have enough time to discover our strengths during our training."

For a short moment, Fred paused to let his gaze wander over his soldiers. Had he imagined it, or had Captain Johnson just muttered something like "Meaning you'll have time to read our files" under her breath?

"Does anybody want to say something?" Fred asked with a stern expression on his face and everybody shook their heads, all expressions remaining neutral. Maybe he really had just imagined that... Probably because he was more nervous than he wanted to admit to himself... He decided to just shake this thought off.

"Good. After we are given the go for Alpha and have arrived on the other side, we will settle in our quarters and meet at 1100 for a basic fitness test."

His timing proved to be perfect – in the same second he had stopped speaking, the alert announcing the activation of the Stargate from the outside went off and the response unit stormed past to secure the gateroom. The Marines from SG-3, who were currently on standby, in the room waited for an explanation for the alert while shouldering backpacks and hooking their P-90s into the harness, just in case they would have to move out.

An agonizingly long minute trickled by until Sergeant Harriman's voice could be heard through the speakers, his tone sounding rushed as he demanded:"SG teams 3 and 12 to the gateroom, ready for departure! SG teams 3 and 12 to the gateroom!"

For a short moment, everybody looked confused, as it had been planned that they would travel to the Alpha Site between the arrivals of other teams, but then, they just followed SG-3.

 _To Be Continued..._


	2. First Impressions - Part 2

Fun fact: I wrote the characterisations of my team before finally deciding that they would be SG-12. So I went to the Stargate Wikia to look up the team after seeing in the series that the original team was killed, and discovered that they really had members named Johnson and McKenzie on their team sometime.

Coincidence Queen.

I want to thank those who reviewed so far, I am always happy to hear some feedback! And yes, I also got a plan for a joint mission with SG-1 ;)

* * *

 **First Impressions**

Part 2

As he ran down the corridors of the SGC towards the gateroom, the sound of the heavy combat boots of the other soldiers echoing in his head, Fred could feel the familiar rush of adrenaline. It was the unmistakable sign that his body and mind were going into operation modus. Why had they been called? That hadn't been the plan, they weren't ready for this yet. They were supposed to train first, and he felt seriously uncomfortable about this change of plan.

The gateroom was dipped into the blue light emitted from the event horizon and all the guards were staring at the Stargate, their weapons ready, fingers touching the triggers. On the other entrance of the gateroom, he could see some medics taking care of two scientists he knew had been offworld with SG-11.

"Major Warren, Captain McKenzie, we just received an emergency call from SG-11," General Hammond informed them via microphone from the control room."Two of their team members are heavily injured and stuck in an area controlled by Jaffa. The others were able to return to the gate, and Captain Smith and Lieutenant Rollins are securing it at the moment. We just launched a UAV to evaluate the situation at hand; we will pass the information on to you when you're on the other side. Major Warren, your command, Captain McKenzie, you and your team are only there to support. Get these men home safely."

"Yes, Sir!" Major Warren answered dutifully and saluted before marching up the ramp leading up to the Stargate, the other Marines following him immediately. This wasn't how he had pictured his first day as a team leader. Honestly, he had been looking forward to all these exercises, but he had only realised it a few seconds ago.

"Good luck," Fred heard General Hammond add to his short instructions and he turned again to nod at his commanding officer before following SG-3 to the gate, knowing that the others were right behind him. And though he had walked through the gate countless times before, it felt completely different today...

OoO

When he stepped out of the Stargate on the other side, he could hear Martinez behind him release a groan. It was that familiar groan he had heard from even the hardest soldiers that had been recruited for the Stargate Program – it definitely took some time to get used to travelling through a wormhole. And for a moment, he thought about telling his young Airman that he could call himself happy as he hadn't thrown up.

However, before he could decide to do so, Major Warren gestured him to join him and the two officers of SG-11 who had stayed behind to help them to get to their injured teammates. As he walked past the tall Marines, he could hear Captain Johnson chuckle:"Oh my, never saw such an interesting face colour."

"SitRep, Captain Smith," Warren ordered the young Captain who looked a little bit shaken up. Little scratches were covering his face, which was full of tension, but still he managed to sound calm and collected as he informed the two team leaders about the situation at hand.

"Sir, we were on our way back to the gate when the Jaffa attacked out of nowhere. Major Hunter and Sergeant Miller were hit by staff weapon fire as we tried to escape, but we were able to get some space between us and the Jaffa. Major Hunter only has a flesh wound on his leg, but Sergeant Miller was hit in the back.

We couldn't carry them both without endangering us even further, so Major Hunter ordered us to go and get help. We left them in a hiding place about three clicks north, and made it back to the gate safely thanks to the fact that they thought they'd hit all of us and were searching for immobile people. The path we used wasn't really controlled by them because it's full of obstacles no wounded person would have been able to overcome, so we managed to sneak past them."

"By sheer luck," Lieutenant Rollins nodded dryly after nodding about the report of his teammate. He looked just as battered as the Captain, but he too was holding onto his P-90 tightly, showing that he was ready to go back and get his comrades out safely.

"Any idea how many of them are wandering around in these woods?" Warren continued, obviously hoping that the men would answer that it had only been a stray patrol. However, they disappointed him by shaking their heads.

"Could be four, could be four hundred."

"Great. Hopefully the UAV pictures will be more definite."

The Major turned on the spot and started to talk to General Hammond over the radio, looking at the wormhole from time to time, his expression darkening a little bit. Meanwhile, the soldier who had held the gate open by sticking his arm into the wormhole stepped back, and the passage collapsed after a few moments.

"The UAV showed that the injured are still where they were left. Bad news is, they too can't say how many Jaffa we are going to deal with, but at least there are no signs of bigger weapon systems in the area. Captain Smith, you remember the path you used to come back here?"

"Yes, Sir, of course." Captain Smith nodded and squared his shoulders, his expression showing how much he obviously wanted to come with them.

"Okay, let's not waste any more time. Sergeant Howard, with us. Captain Smith, lead the way. McKenzie, you and the rest of your team stay here, together with Lieutenant Rollins, and secure the gate. Dig up some fighting positions, and Captain Johnson, place some explosives in case we bring guests."

The group of Marines started to follow Captain Smith into the woods, though before he disappeared, Major Warren turned around for a final time and exclaimed:"And children – behave!"

Though Fred nodded to signal that he had understood Warren's order, he didn't feel particularly happy. Because, no matter how nervous he was, he wanted to go with them. He was more than capable of handling situations like this, and hell, why didn't Warren ask if he could borrow his Sergeant?! And didn't he trust him to be smart enough to order is 2IC to place some mines? Or in general order his team to build a useful position?! He was tempted to call Major Warren a self-propelled sandbag under his breath for acting as if he had never been in a military school, but he decided to instead concentrate on the task at hand. No matter how much he disliked it at the moment, he had been assigned a job that he would do now – even though it only consisted of supervising the others, thanks to Warren, and of keeping an eye on the woods.

Captain Johnson gave him an odd look as she walked past him to get the required equipment from SG-11's F.R.E.D., and he supposed that his dislike of the situation was more obvious than he had intended.

"So, you're a zoomie, huh?" he heard Martinez say behind him in a tone that sounded a tiny little bit too playful. "You don't look like a fighter pilot at all."

First, as he turned around, Fred wanted to tell Martinez in the most unfriendly way possible that this was not the right time and place for casual chatter. But before he could open his mouth, his 2IC had already started to speak.

"So, let me guess, you were hoping to see some Tom Cruise blend because you have a crush on him, huh? Don't go Top Gun on me, baby boy, I hate that movie. Now grab your shovel and go play, I've got work to do."

Her tone had been harsh and commanding, but her expression was nearly the of boredom as she turned away from Airman Martinez and made her way to the edge of the forest with the explosives. Obviously, her answer hadn't been what Martinez had expected, as he was left speechless, and Fred cleared his throat impatiently to signal the young man that he had been given a task. Immediately, the young seemed to snap back to reality and hurried to grab the shovel, his cheeks turning a little red. Behind him, Fred could hear Lieutenant Rollins chuckle softly.

Nearly half an hour passed without anything extraordinary happening, except maybe for Airman Martinez hitting his own leg with the shovel. Captain Johnson had finished her task in the meantime, and was now supporting Fred and Lieutenant Rollins in keeping an eye on the forest. The atmosphere between the soldiers was tense; everybody was on alert. On the other hand, the planet itself seemed to try to lure them into believing that the Goa'uld had never visited it. The air was fresh and smelled earthy, as if it had rained not long ago. Birds were singing peacefully, a light wind was rustling through the leaves. From time to time, the sun came out from behind the white, fluffy clouds that were passing them overhead, dipping the clearing with the Stargate into a warm light that made the green around them glow.

It seemed hard to believe that somewhere in the depth of that forest, SG-3 were trying to avoid the face-to-face encounter with a bunch of Jaffa that were more than a little bit keen to find and kill them.

All of a sudden, the radio made a cracking sound and then the distorted voice of Major Warren could be heard. Gunfire and the sound of staff weapons were making it hard to understand him clearly.

"Captain McKenzie, we are under fire, I order you to..."

The radio crackled again, then the other side went dead. Everybody stared at Fred and tension was filling the air. They were silent, only the static sound of the interrupted connection was audible, and of course the songs of the birds. Fred could also hear his own blood rushing, and his heart was pumping hard in his chest. His mind was racing as he tried to decide what they should do now, with their comrades out there, fighting for their lives.

He knew, technically, their last order, the of staying at the gate, was still standing, but he thoroughly disliked the thought of holding his position while SG-3 and a fourth of his team were under fire. It had sounded like they were in a pretty bad situation, and to him, the fact that the radio connection was gone was the indication that they wouldn't get out of that forest without their help. Fred knew that he didn't want to be responsible for the deaths of several good men, and so he didn't need much time to come to a decision.

"Gear up, we'll go and get them out!" He barked out and Martinez, who had been kneeling in the dirt next to his fighting position, jumped to his feet eagerly. Obviously, he had only been waiting for some action. Lieutenant Rollins straightened his back and shot a rather sceptic look at Fred, but he simply ignored this. There would always be people who disagreed with orders, but it was their job to follow them anyway. And it wasn't like there weren't some of his teammates out there, too.

However, before Fred could take the first step towards the forest, someone spoke up behind him, causing him to stop and turn around on the spot, a glare appearing on his face as he stared down at the person.

"Sir, I have to protest! Our order is to stay here and secure our way back home!"

 _To Be Continued..._


	3. First Impressions - Part 3

A big Thank You to Lynn and Liza, who betaed this chapter for me :)

Also, thanks for the reviews and follows/favs :) I appreciate the feedback a lot :)

* * *

 **First Impressions**

Part 3

Fred narrowed his eyes as Captain Johnson returned his glare with the same intensity, stubbornness showing clearly in the way she stood there with her hands on her hips. For a short moment, he could've forgotten that she was smaller than him, as the amount of authority and determination she radiated definitely let her appear taller.

"What did you say, Captain?" he asked calmly, even though he could feel anger itching in his fingertips. There had been a lot of situations like this one in his life, and he was already used to keeping himself under control. Not that he was someone who lost his temper easily, but he'd learned that it was an advantage to keep the anger from showing. Intimidating calmness was a lot more effective than loud words sometimes. In his opinion, a lot of drill sergeants were yet to learn this important lesson.

"I believe you understood me fully well, Sir," she replied just as controlled, putting that tiny bit too much accentuation onto his honorary title as she addressed him. "I pointed out that our last clear order from Major Warren was to stay here and secure the gate. And as he didn't say otherwise over the radio, it still stands. Sir."

It was clear that Lieutenant Rollins agreed with Captain Johnson's opinion, even though he seemed to believe that it wasn't up to him to speak up to an officer above his rank. Therewhile, Martinez looked simply confused about the sudden argument that was very likely to come up.

"Captain, we don't know what the Major wanted to say before the connection was interrupted. But what we do know is that they're in danger out there, and I won't stand here while a member of our team and a half dozen other comrades are under fire."

Johnson shook her head shortly, making her braid bounce over her shoulder, and lowered her head, obviously to conceal that she was rolling her eyes. When she responded to his argument, she nearly sounded dismissive; she was dancing on a thin line, in Fred's opinion.

"Don't you think, _Sir_ , that a bunch of goddamned Marines can master this task on their own?"

Inwardly, he frowned about her well-aimed argument, and he thoroughly hated that she had a point. Of course, she was right, but that tone of hers had rubbed him the wrong way. By now, he was sure he hadn't imagined all these rather adverse gazes from her; she didn't seem too fond of the thought of being under his command.

He didn't have the time to wonder where her antipathy came from, and honestly, he didn't care too much. He wasn't aiming for everyone to like him or agree with his command style, and he also wasn't the kind of person who let colleagues become private friends. Professional distance was what he preferred; it worked perfectly for him. Therefore, he wouldn't waste too many thoughts on what Johnson's issue was, as long as she didn't let her behaviour interfere with their work too much.

So, even though she technically was right, and he probably would've reacted the same way if he had been in her place, he decided to bend the rules. Staying at the gate was perfectly fine but going to get them was too, thanks to the radio situation. If he suspected a SNAFU, he was in a grey zone - probably the closest he would ever get to breaking the rules.

"Well, Captain, if you've got more detailed information about the situation they're in, go ahead, stay here! But I'll go and probably save their asses!"

Without waiting for a response from her, Fred turned towards Lieutenant Rollins and ordered him to go ahead, as he was the only one who knew the exact direction of the path their comrades were using.

"Sir, as you aren't willing to listen to my objections, I request that you note my official complaint for your mission report!"

Inwardly, Fred sighed deeply. If she always behaved like that, he could already tell that the two of them would have a lot of fun together. He would have to practice his DILLIGAF stare in that case.

"Acknowledged. And now we go. This is a direct order, Captain," he stated, mimicking her dismissive tone. He didn't care to turn around to see if she bothered to accompany them as he followed Lieutenant Rollins into the woods. Fred nearly expected that she would stay by the gate but was surprised by the contrary – after a few steps, he could hear Captain Johnson swear behind him as loud and dirty as a sailor, then the sound of her steps joined theirs as they started to cleave through the undergrowth.

OoO

In retrospect, Fred questioned his sanity concerning the decision to go after Major Warren and his team. If he'd known how everything would turn out and had the measures to travel back in time, he would've kicked his own ass.

Hard.

Twice. At least.

Once for that decision, twice because Johnson had been right all along, and he hated it.

He seriously had no idea why it made him fume inwardly that she was fighting hard to keep that self-satisfied grin from becoming too obvious. Though, he probably would've looked the same if it had been her who had ordered them to abandon their defensive position in order to rescue a bunch of Marines. Especially if she and her team had run into these very Marines, who weren't exactly in as much distress as she had thought.

However, he had worse things to worry about than the grin of his 2IC. He didn't know what was worse – the fact that he was still staring into the wrong end of Warren's P-90 or that the Major's expression of surprise disappeared within a second, only to be replaced by one of anger. And that he did, in fact, hesitate a second too long to lower his weapon.

There he had been, thinking that it was a good idea to go and see if they needed a hand, not considering for a second that his pride might be getting in his way while arguing with Captain Johnson. Well, he probably deserved to be in the middle of a home-made clusterfuck then, being the one to blame.

"What the hell are you doing here, Captain?!" Warren hissed in fury, still looking as if he had the urge to shoot the other officer right where he stood. Behind him, Fred could see one of the Sergeants rolling his eyes, and he was sure that he would have buried his face in his hands if the man hadn't carried one end of a stretcher. He had the distinct feeling that he would be the main bashing target of the Marines for the next weeks.

His feeling of regret seemed to double as he saw the face of Sergeant Howard – disbelief was written all over it, and he felt like he was in officer school again, having screwed up during a drill.

However, this was not the time and nor the place to ponder about how stupid he had been and how reluctant he was to admit it – the fact that the fire from a staff weapon coming from between the trees missed him by mere centimetres reassured him of that.

"Move! Move!" Warren exclaimed; the anger had disappeared from his face. Within a second, everybody shoved the surprise about this situation into the background and acted on automatisms. The two Marines carrying the stretcher with Sergeant Miller led at the front of their group, together with Martinez, who looked like he was about to throw up in panic, and Captain Smith. Right behind them, Sergeant Howard supported a surprisingly mobile Major Hunter, who, considering that he had a flesh wound on his leg and was bleeding through the dressing, was moving pretty fast.

Fred assumed that SG-3 had been able to put some distance between them and the Jaffa – well, until they had appeared and stopped them in their tracks, that was. Oh, Warren would have his ass on a fuckin' gold plate. At least, if they managed to get back to the Stargate in one piece and survived the time they needed to dial Earth and enter their iris code.

His blood was rushing in his ears as he joined the remaining soldiers in making up the rear, holding off the masses of serpent guards that were storming at them. This definitely wasn't the way he had imagined his first day as CO of a SG-team to be. Though he assumed this must be an impressive record: ignoring the exact circumstances of a situation, overriding the orders he had been given to lead his team into a dangerous position and endangering the whole mission by doing that.

And he had left the gate unsecured. These really were mistakes he wasn't supposed to make, and he definitely had set higher standards for himself than to screw up on his first day. He could only hope that Hammond was in a very, very good mood today.

Luckily, they were moving forward faster than he would've expected during a retreat with two injured soldiers. On the other hand, the Jaffa were outnumbering them drastically. They must've had a hidden camp, one that the UAV hadn't spotted, because there were just too many. Even though their P-90s were more effective than their staff weapons, it seemed that for every Jaffa falling, hit by their fire, two more appeared. Hydra, the serpentine monster with the many heads, shot through Fred's head. Another fitting description, maybe, was that SG-11 had poked into a wasp's nest here. And now they had to deal with those aggressive little bastards.

One look down showed him that his magazine was nearly empty, and while he was shooting his last bullets out, he yelled to whoever was moving at his left side: "Reload!"

From the corner of his eye, he saw a smaller figure step forward, allowing him to duck behind a tree and reload his P-90. Upon emerging again, he was being shoved backwards by Captain Johnson, who seemingly had been the one to give him cover. He was surprised by the amount of force her shove had, but he didn't question her intention – obviously, he had overheard Warren's order to increase the speed of their retreat.

They were taking turns in covering and running, and slowly, they were able to increase the distance between them and the Jaffa.

He had lost his feeling of time and distance; it seemed as if he had been firing and running for hours. All he really saw were trees, their branches hitting him in various places of his body as he moved, and the silver schemes that were Jaffa.

"We're nearly at the gate!" Warren exclaimed to his right, practically yelling at them over the noise their weapons made. "Johnson, mines!"

"Understood!"

Only a short sprint later, they passed the last row of trees and broke through onto the clearing the Stargate was located in. Martinez and Smith were nearly at the DHD by then, getting ready to dial Earth and enter the code that would open the iris for them. One gaze over his shoulder assured him that the Jaffa were still behind them – he could still spot them easily between the trees, their silver armours giving them away.

His chest was heaving as he turned around completely to take them under fire while moving backwards, fully aware that Johnson was fiddling with the pocket into which she had put the control for the mines she had placed a few steps before the first tree line. He certainly didn't fancy being near them when she let them explode; in any case, though, Johnson and he were still too close. There just wasn't enough time to close ranks with the others, so he just threw himself onto the ground as he saw Johnson pressing the button.

The detonation seemed to shake his bones just as it shook the earth underneath him. Gritting his teeth and shielding his head with his arms while he was lying uncomfortably on his P-90, he waited until the last row of mines had detonated.

He could feel lumps of soil and twigs sputtering down onto his back; the smell of burned earth and wood and flesh invaded his nostrils. Screams filled the air, indistinguishable due to the noise, and he thought he also heard gunfire, though he couldn't feel the bullets rush through the air above him. Though he didn't see anything else than the brown and green soil inches away from his face, he could sense the chaos.

And then, it was quiet.

His hearing seemed a little bit cushioned, as if someone had stuffed padding into his ears. Looking up, he could see the wormhole opening, and he pushed himself onto his knees and elbows, then jumped to his feet in a fluid motion. Warren was motioning at him to run, to follow Howard and the Marines with the stretcher, and he legged it. While running, he saw Johnson next to him, covered in even more dirt than him, looking grimly satisfied. There was no time to turn around and see how effective her mines had been, but from the fact that the men covering them were barely firing anymore, he gathered that she must've waited until the very last second to hit as many Jaffa as possible.

OoO

The seconds of travelling through the wormhole were a relief, as he knew that they were safe now. This fucked-up mission would be over in a second, and he would be able to take a shower.

To him, the metallic sounds of his steps on the ramp of the Stargate were the most reassuring noise he knew in the world, and when the iris closed behind Warren, he released a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

His whole body seemed to be vibrating from the adrenaline that was still shooting through his bloodstream. His fingers were prickling now, as they weren't holding his P-90 and weren't pulling the trigger anymore. The good two hours they had spent on the planet seemed to have passed by in a blurr.

Still standing on the upper part of the ramp, his gaze followed the medic team that was wheeling the two injured soldiers off to the infirmary; Doctor Fraiser shouting instructions at her staff.

Slowly, his breathing was calming down, and he walked down the ramp, passing Johnson who was throwing him an unreadable glance while she pulled a thin twig out of her slightly dishevelled braid. The Marines around them were securing their weapons, took off the first parts of their combat gear and chattered lightly, as if they had not just escaped a few dozen Jaffa. It was a moment of peace, of settling down, that he needed to come back down to earth after these hectic events. Only now was he able to realise how close they had been to a clusterfuck intensity 10. And all because he had been a tad ignorant towards the circumstances of the situation. He gave himself a mental slap for behaving in such an incompetent way.

Warren was pushing his way past him, towards Hammond, who had just entered the gate room, a questioning expression on his face as he saw the anger on the Major's face. It was literally radiating off the Marine, and Fred knew he was doomed when the two officers spoke in hushed voices with each other, the General's face darkening with every second.

"Major Warren, Captain McKenzie, Captain Johnson! In my office, now!"

Behind him, Fred could hear Johnson mutter, "Fuck", but he was more worried about preparing for the first real ass chewing since being in officer school. This wouldn't be pleasing for him, not when Warren was in such a bad mood about what happened, and he just hoped that he would make it out of General Hammond's office in one piece.

Or at least not in thousands of small shreds.

 _To Be Continued_


	4. First Impressions - Part 4

A big Thank You to Liza, who beta-ed this for me :)

So, this is the last chapter of Episode 1 - I have already started writing the second one, and I hope that it won't take that long to finish enough of it so I can upload it :) Stay tuned!

* * *

 **First Impressions**

Part 4

Fred seriously couldn't remember a moment in his career in the Air Force in which he had been so concerned about the well-being of this very career. Never had he made a blunder. From the day he had entered officer candidate school after college, he had worked hard to keep his record clean and to become the type of soldier his grandfather had been. Highly decorated, respected, a textbook leader who was wearing the uniform with pride and dignity. His grandfather surely wouldn't have made such a dumb mistake.

Maybe he should've went to the Navy too, then he would be anywhere, flying helicopters that were stationed on a frigate or an aircraft carrier.

Whatever he possibly could have chosen, he certainly wouldn't be standing in the office of his superior officer. In full combat gear, minus his weapons, of course, covered in earth and the target of a Marine who was in more than only a sour mood. He swore to himself that he would never ever make the mistake of thinking that a Marine couldn't handle a situation on his own again. At least, if he lived to go on another mission, that was.

He was standing in the middle of the office, General Hammond sitting behind his polished desk, listening to Major Warren's explanation of what had happened on the planet.

Captain Johnson was standing next to him, appearing to be a lot cooler than he would ever have managed to be in this situation. Maybe, he thought, she already was used to being present while someone got roasted. While he didn't dare to even move his little finger, she was unceremoniously wiping a smudge of dirt from her face with the back of her hand.

On the other hand, she really didn't have to fear anything – he was the one who had given the order to follow SG-3. She was only here because she would be able to give them a different insight on what had happened before he'd made that dumb decision. It was her who was on the safe side here, while he was in a position that made him extremely uncomfortable.

And it would only get worse, he noticed, as Major Warren was coming to the end of his monologue. It was time to brace for the questions that Hammond would have. He only hoped that they'd be over with it soon - he didn't like the thought of being questioned and accused for hours. Maybe Hammond needed to leave early to have dinner with his grandchildren? If there was a patron for SG-team leaders, he hoped he would side with him.

"Sir, I would call it sheer luck that we weren't killed out there, thanks to Captain McKenzie here!" Warren grumbled and stepped backwards, glaring at Fred as if to show him that he wouldn't get out of here before he had his head as a trophy. Hammond looked calmer than before, though Fred didn't dare to underestimate the General - he was not the type of man who let something like this slip by uncommented.

"Captain McKenzie," the General suddenly addressed Fred and ripped him from his thoughts. "Do you want to add anything to Major Warren's statement regarding the events?"

For a short moment, Fred considered to start some pathetic pleading about how he had never done a big mistake like this before, and that he had been simply overwhelmed by the circumstances. Luckily, he immediately decided not to do this and to simply admit that he had screwed up - he already had gathered enough material for humiliation today, and he didn't wanted the barrel to overflow.

"No, Sir. Everything the Major reported is the truth," Fred stated, his gaze flickering down to his dirty combat boots for a moment. Saying it out aloud really made him feel even worse about his decision. He wasn't used to failing on something concerning his job. In social life, yes, maybe - he had lost a lot of friends over the job, and also the contact to his family had been a victim of his military career.

But never had he done a mistake like this, and it did indeed hurt a little bit; in any case, it was highly unpleasant.

Taking a deep breath, he raised his head again and looked Hammond in the eye as he added:"Sir, the only thing I need to inform you about any further is the fact that Captain Johnson did officially protest against my decision and that I did ignore her complaint."

Hammond leaned back and folded his arms in front of his chest, gazing over to Captain Johnson in a calm manner. In fact, his voice sounded nearly relaxed as he asked:"Is that true, Captain?"

"Yes, Sir. I told him that the Marines probably wouldn't need our help and that our order was to stay at the gate."

The General nodded at the young woman before concentrating on Fred once more.

"Captain, I do agree with Major Warren's description of this being a dumb action. I am asking myself what you were thinking when you made this decision that endangered every single one of the soldiers that were out there with you! You should have known better, McKenzie, because it is your job to follow the orders that were given to you, and you should have known that Warren had his reasons to leave you at the Stargate!"

For a short moment, the office lay in silence, leaving Fred feeling tortured, but then, the General continued.

"I expected more from you, Captain, I definitely did. When I gave you this command, I trusted you to think more thoroughly before reacting. You've been in the SGC for over a year now, and should be aware of your fellow comrade's capabilities. Also, you should have listened to the objections of your Second In Command. It is true that the military is far from being a democracy, but nonetheless it can never harm to listen to what your fellow officers have to say! Out there, teamwork is more important than anything else! And in that point, I am highly disappointed."

Again, Fred looked down at his boots, wishing the floor would open up underneath them so he and his shame could be swallowed. Disappearing into nonentity did suddenly sound tempting, especially since General Hammond sounded a little bit like his father when he had first reacted to the news that his son was joining the United States Air Force. Hopefully, Hammond's speech wouldn't revert to a fight with a lot of anger and insults as well, ending with him leaving for officer school and never coming back home.

"However, there is no way I can deny that I too played my role in this disaster. It was a mistake to send you out there with SG-3 without any previous training, without giving you the opportunity to find out what the strengths of your teammates are. I was in a zugzwang, but that doesn't justify that entirely. Therefore, it would be wrong to punish you in any way for this, as I do carry this responsibility as well. I want to apologise, son. This shouldn't have happened."

He had expected a big outburst, had inwardly braced himself, and had been more than surprised when it hadn't come. It took him a lot of control to keep his jaw from dropping, and he must have stared at Hammond in disbelief, looking incredibly dumb and flabbergasted, as he thought he had heard Johnson snort dryly to herself. Also, Warren was taking in a sharp breath, as if he was negatively surprised about Hammond's decision.

However, before he could really feel happiness about this rather mild scolding, Hammond raised a finger, adding in a more strict tone:"But, Captain, be aware that I won't let things like this pass every time. One other step out of line, and you'll no longer be the CO of SG-12, is this clear?!"

"Y-yes, Sir, understood, Sir. It won't happen again, I swear," Fred stuttered, his voice nearly cracking in relief.

"I am sure it won't, Captain. Now, on to more pleasant things. SG-12 and SG-3 will depart tomorrow morning, point 0900 hours, to the Alpha Site for your combat readiness training. Major, Captain, please inform your teams about this. Report at the infirmary at 0730 so Dr. Fraiser can make a medical check up."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Dismissed."

McKenzie, Johnson and Warren all saluted shortly before they turned to leave. Was he only imaging it, or did Warren look slightly disappointed about the outcome of the conversation? The Major had probably hoped that Hammond would rip his ass open for what he'd done… Fred made a note for the future, one he'd hopefully remember: Never ever piss off a Marine.

Again, at least.

OoO

Only as they left Hammond's office, Fred released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Warren glared at him as he pushed past him into the corridor, taking off his open combat vest.

In the same second as the door was shut behind them, Johnson muttered, loud enough for them to hear: "Told you so."

Warren looked like he was about to explode, and Fred knew that this time, he would. There was no General Hammond to stop him from anything. The Marine was taking very deep and controlled, yet loud breaths, as if he was really trying to hold himself together.

However, he failed.

Seconds later, Warren moved towards Fred, stopping so close in front of him that he was literally standing on his toes and drilled his index finger into the younger man's chest. Mildly spoken, he looked murderous.

"Listen closely, McKenzie. You are incredibly lucky that Hammond had a good day today! If it had been up to me to deal with your behaviour, I would have rammed your ass into the ground unsharpened! Also, you would have called yourself commanding officer of SG-12 for the longest time! I think you are an incompetent idiot, even though Hammond seems to think it was his fault to send you out there. In my opinion, he should have asked himself if he wants someone to lead one of his teams who can't follow the easiest orders! Or someone who ignores it when a fellow officer makes him aware of the fact that he is about to make a big mistake."

Warren took a few deep breaths as he stopped talking for a short moment. His whole face was red as a tomato from the effort of holding a monologue without breathing. For the second time on this day, Fred didn't dare to move, or even blink, fearing that Warren might lose it then and throw himself at him. Being killed by a Marine wasn't really on his agenda at the moment.

"I really think that General Hammond made a fucking unwise decision. And be sure that not only he will be watching you, McKenzie - I will observe every little step you make on this base, and I swear, if I see you stepping out of the fucking line again, you'll lose your post faster than you can blink."

Fred gulped hard as Warren stepped backwards, glared at him for the last time and then left, his footsteps heavy on the concrete. His shoulders were heaving, and Fred felt like the man had been close to losing his composure.

Relief flooded through him, and he was sure that his mother would have said in this moment that he had more luck than he deserved - at least that was what she'd told him when she'd heard about him nearly being shot down with his helicopter in Iraq.

Finally, everything was over. This shitty day was coming to an end and all he wanted to do now was type up his final report and go to bed.

A movement in the corner of his eye made him aware of the fact that Warren and he hadn't been alone in the corridor.

Johnson, who had watched this scene silently, had a tiny smile dancing around her lips as she pushed herself away from the wall she'd been standing close to and stated matter of factly:"He is right."

For a moment, Fred considered to reply with a snappy remark, but his head was empty in anger. So, instead of starting a verbal duel, he just glared at her, barely able to hide his annoyance. As he walked away, he growled inwardly about her commentary. Seriously, he already dreaded future discussions with her - the way she composed her arguments reminded him so much of himself in his college years. She had this looseness that he had somehow lost in his strive for perfection.

OoO

It took him a good two hours, a hot shower and a really strong, black coffee before he felt somewhat calm again. He'd been fuming inwardly at some point, and a few versions of his report had ended up as a crumpled piece of paper on the floor. Even though his annoyance was mostly about Major Warren and Captain Johnson, he knew exactly that the only person he should be angry with was himself. This mistake was of course still nibbling on him, but he was sure that he would overcome this. There already had been so many difficulties in his way throughout his life, he was practiced in dealing with them. And though it was unpleasant to have to do it, there always was something to learn from the things he had done wrong — he certainly didn't wanted to do it again.

All he really wanted was to go to sleep and end this day for good, but there still was one thing he had to do before he could go to bed — inform his team about the plan for tomorrow.

The atmosphere in the recreation room tensed up tangibly as he entered and noticed that they all had followed his summoning via intercom. He could feel the gaze of every single one of his team members on him, but it didn't bother him. They surely were looking for a sign of weakness that he wasn't going to show to them.

Johnson was standing by the wall next to the door, her arms crossed in front of her chest while looking at him with a stony expression.

Howard was sitting on the couch, looking rather relaxed while he casually flipped through the sports section of a newspaper somebody else must have left behind in the room. He didn't appear to be particularly interested in seeing flaws in him, though he was sure that he was watching his every step while analysing what he had to expect.

Only Martinez looked somewhat excited about this meeting — he was sitting next to Howard on the couch, his gaze full of anticipation. It was nearly a bit too much enthusiasm for Fred's taste, and he wondered if the boy was out for gossip.

Acknowledging their presence, he nodded when all of them raised for a short, but formal greeting.

"At ease. I just wanted to inform you about our next orders. We are to report at the infirmary for the medical check-up at 0730, afterwards, we'll leave for Alpha Site with SG-3. Be punctual. Any questions?"

While Howard and Martinez shook their heads in unison, Johnson just continued to stare at him, her jaw tense, as if she was fighting hard to keep herself from blurting out another commentary. He was nearly thankful when she managed to keep quiet — he'd had enough of her opinion for today.

"Good. Dismissed!"

Turning on his heel, he was rather happy to be able to leave already — though nobody had said anything, he'd felt like unspoken questions and accusations concerning his behaviour were hanging in the air. He was painfully aware that his authority had been heavily shaken by this blunder, and that not only Warren would watch his behaviour more closely now — Captain Johnson and Sergeant Howard would eyeball him too, now that he had showed them his weak side right at the beginning.

How he was looking forward to what was yet to come.

 _End Of Episode 1..._


	5. Kings Of The Training Ground - Part 1

Welcome back for Episode 2!

The title definitely is inspired by the German word Trainingsweltmeister (practice champions).

So, this episode won't contain that much action, as I want you to get to know the characters a bit better. I just hope it won't be too boring ;)

Also, I'll start to include the point of views of the other members of SG-12. Furthermore, I'll show you which actors were the real life models for my characters :)

For Captain Fred McKenzie, I did chose Jonathan Rhys Meyers – I saw him in 'The Tudors' and his intimidating glares suited the character a lot ;)

Thanks a lot to Liza and Emily, who betaed this for me! :)

I hope you guys like it :)

* * *

 **Kings Of The Training Ground**

Part 1

Stifling a yawn, Captain Fred McKenzie walked through the corridors of the SGC, heading towards the infirmary. His night had been far too short, thanks to him lying awake until at least 0300, a victim of his overactive mind. While his body had begged for rest, his mind had felt the urge to roll the events from the past day over and over.

Overthinking things that had already happened mostly ended with the same result: he regretted everything even more. So, he went to work in a lousy mood, and the fact that there was a medical check up minutes away didn't lighten it at all. It seemed to be something all soldiers had in common – they hated physicals, but on the other hand, who liked them at all?

He hadn't even had any coffee yet.

Entering the infirmary, he found that his team was already there, in the form of Captain Johnson and Sergeant Howard. They were sitting on the beds, facing each other, both nursing tea in a thermo mug in silence. Though he wasn't much of a tea drinker, Fred wished he'd gotten up earlier to grab anything from the commissary before coming here.

"Morning," he greeted the two of them, feeling slightly awkward. Though they hadn't spoken upon his arrival, he felt like he'd just intruded a little bubble formed around the two of them. Was he just imagining it, or was he already feeling secluded? Why did it bother him more than it normally would?

"Morning, Sir," Howard greeted him politely; Johnson gave him a faint nod.

"Can you tell me where Airman Martinez is?"

Johnson took a long sip from her mug while gesturing towards the bed next to the farthest wall. The privacy curtain was drawn all around it, and Fred just nodded in understanding.

For a short moment, he stood in the middle of the room like an exhibit that had been forgotten in the dusty cellar of a museum. Then, he moved to sit on the bed next to Howard's, trying to ignore how heavy his limbs still were from the lack of sleep.

He really wasn't looking forward to starting their training at Alpha Site, but that would probably change as soon as he got hold of a coffee. Without caffeine, he sometimes felt as if he was as intimidating as a teddy bear – not the best basis to hunt his team through the forest later this day.

All of a sudden, the curtain was ripped to the side and Doctor Janet Fraiser walked out, a glare on her face. It seemed like he wasn't the only one whose day had started way too early, and from personal experience he knew that they wouldn't have any fun this morning.

"Sergeant, you're next," she barked at Howard, and the blond soldier followed her, his calm appearance not even slipping for a second as he walked, towering above the small woman like a giant. Martinez left the space behind the privacy curtain, walking past the two of them as they vanished.

The expression on the young man's face was full of annoyance and pain, and he was limping slightly as he approached them. Sitting down on the bed that Howard had occupied moments earlier, he winced: "Well, at least I now know that my testicles are alright."

Fred shifted uncomfortably and gazed down at his hands, biting back a response that would have made it clear rather harshly that he didn't wanted to hear things like that from his soldiers. It was something that had rubbed most people he'd met in his military career the wrong way – he had a dislike for dirty jokes. He couldn't count the times he'd been told to pull the stick out of his ass.

"Oh, you should be happy – surely you haven't been touched down there by anybody other than yourself in forever."

Fred's head raised abruptly and he stared at Johnson who was casually sipping at her tea, acting as if she hadn't just made the most snappiest remark he'd heard from a female soldier in quite some time.

For a moment, everybody present was silent, and Fred already thought that nobody would say anything about her statement as he watched Martinez blush.

But then they heard a barking laughter coming out from behind the privacy curtain, and Sergeant Howard exclaimed: "That was a good one, Ma'am!"

A slight grin appeared on Airman Martinez' face too, and soon he joined the older NOC in his guffaw. Captain Johnson was just grinning, her green eyes twinkling mischievously, and Fred forced himself to smile weakly.

Even Doctor Fraiser's expression seemed a tiny bit softer as she finished Howard's examination, and Fred suspected that the Sergeant's dimples were the reason for it. And here he had always thought that the petite doctor was still too sad about Doctor Jackson's Ascension to let herself be influenced by a man's attributes.

It took some time until Fraiser was done with examining all team members, and Fred was glad that he'd been up last. The doctor's mood had constantly gotten better, and so she handled him more carefully than he had dreaded when first entering the infirmary.

OoO

After being released by the needle-loving woman, he quickly reminded his team of their decampment time and made his way to the commissary to finally, _finally_ grab hold of a coffee.

Sipping the steamy liquid and blending out the slightly bitter taste of machine oil the SGC coffee always seemed to have, he walked to his office. As he felt the life spirits return to his body, he also found his motivation for the task awaiting him at the Alpha Site.

Pushing the door to the cupboard that was called an office open, he could already spot a small stack of files lying on his otherwise tidy desk. He hadn't been exactly happy about being unable to choose the team members himself, and so he'd asked for the personnel files to be delivered to him as soon as possible. Obviously, ASAP didn't have the same definition for those paper warriors that it had for him. Their scheduled departure had been yesterday; he wouldn't have been able to get hold of the files until their return – two weeks at the earliest.

Taking another sip of coffee, he sat down onto his chair and switched his laptop on to quickly check his emails. He only had a few minutes spare, but there were some habits that he couldn't get rid of.

A few minutes later, his watch showed that he only had about half an hour left to change and grab his gear. So he hurried to turn off the laptop, downing the rest of his coffee and pulling a face over its horrible taste. But, caffeine was caffeine after all.

Leaving the empty mug on his desk and grabbing the three personnel files, he hurried to get out of his office, pulling the door closed behind him. He wouldn't have time to read them until this evening, but it was better than not having them available at all.

However, before he could walk down the corridor, he stopped dead in his tracks. Captain Johnson was just exiting the room next to his office, closing the door behind her. He knew that office had been empty for some time, but he would never have thought that she would get it.

As she turned around and spotted him, she frowned slightly before greeting him with a short: "Sir."

He could see his own displeasure about her being his office neighbour in her eyes, and he didn't make an effort to hide it.

"Captain," he replied stiffly, clutching the files a little bit tighter, which immediately drew her attention to them. Cocking a perfectly formed eyebrow, she walked past him without making any comment on them; he really had expected her to say something.

Fred didn't care what she thought about him reading their files; he would've bet his football signed by Steve Bartkowski of the Atlanta Falcons that Johnson had already gotten hold of his own files as well. He couldn't say that he knew anything about the way she worked, but he had the feeling that she was deadly effective; a move like getting his file to know who she was confronted with wouldn't surprise him at all. A tiny part of him was extremely eager to get to know more about her and the others, and it was literally itching in his fingers to open these files and rummage through the papers, but his real priorities were elsewhere.

OoO

At exactly 0901, SG-3 and SG-12 stepped out of the Stargate on the Alpha Site. While SG-3 immediately left for the barracks – something Fred wasn't exactly sad about, as he'd had the feeling that Warren still had the desire to shoot him – SG-12 gathered around their CO, awaiting his orders.

Checking his watch, Fred told them without glancing up: "Okay, I want you to grab your bunks and be back in fifteen. With weapons and a 10 kilogram backpack, we're going for a casual jog around the block."

Half an hour later, he could literally hear his comrades snort about his definition of a 'casual jog around the block'. On the other hand, Captain Johnson and Sergeant Howard didn't appear to be bothered that he was hunting them 5 miles through the forest near the Alpha Site base. He actually had the feeling that it was a light warm up for them. While fine beads of sweat run down his neck and he felt his cheeks getting warm, they looked like they were having a walk around the park.

Only Martinez seemed not too happy about their excursion – he was panting slightly, and his face was red as a tomato, but he didn't complain. The young Airman just gritted his teeth together and stared stubbornly forwards, as if he was trying to block out the distance he still had to run.

However, when they were only a about a half kilometre away from the base, Fred could hear Sergeant Howard hiss behind him: "Come on, Martinez, move your ass."

Upon turning his head and looking over his shoulders, Fred could see that Martinez was slowing down, his fingers gripping his P-90 as if he was trying to compensate pain.

"What is going on back there?" he exclaimed with the bit of breath he had left in his lungs and he saw Howard grab the younger man's elbow, pulling him with him.

"Nothing, Sir."

Even though the Sergeant assisted Martinez to keep up with their pace, the small group had to slow down eventually. The young soldier looked as if he wanted to dedicate his breakfast to the wildflowers growing next to the path they used on the final meters to the base.

As they finally reached their destination, Martinez unceremoniously tossed his backpack to the side and let himself fall onto the ground, emptying half the contents of his water bottle over his face.

Fred frowned at this, and didn't make an effort to sugarcoat his words as he analysed their little run immediately: "Martinez, this was nothing. Because of you, the whole group had to slow down."

After some deep gasps for air, the young man answered hoarsely: "Sorry, Sir. I just overcame a cold. Seems like my lungs are still a bit affected by it."

He didn't completely believe him; he was actually sure that Martinez was trying to play his weakness down, but he didn't want to carve his opinion into stone yet. It had only been the first run of many, and he would have enough time in the next weeks to find out what was really fact about the young man.

He threw a short look at Sergeant Howard and Captain Johnson, but they both had neutral expressions on their faces as they took sips from their water bottles.

"Well, you'll have some time to catch your breath in a minute," he replied sternly and gestured for Martinez to stand up. "To the shooting range, at the double!"

A suppressed moan escaped the young man and Fred glared at him before leading the way, gulping down a tantrum. It was too early to explode, especially since nobody except himself was responsible for his impatience. He wanted everything immediately, even though he knew that it would take a lot of time and effort to form these soldiers to an effective unit.

And though he rarely ever admitted something like that, he himself would need this time as well. The events of the previous day had made it pretty obvious that he was far from being the leader he aimed to be, and that he would have to learn a lot. Otherwise, Warren would already be waiting to kick his ass out of Cheyenne Mountain, and General Hammond would probably congratulate him for the excellently aimed kick.

Shooting with his P-90 at the human-shaped targets really helped him to get rid of some of the frustration that was still boiling inside of him, and as his magazine was empty, he actually felt a little bit better.

However, his mood immediately changed as he saw the shooting results. It wasn't Martinez's relatively average performance that annoyed him; he was fine with it, and he thought that they would be able to work with that.

No, it was the fact that not only Sergeant Howard had a hit rate of about 96 percent with both the P-90 and the nine millimeter, but Captain Johnson as well. So far he'd always thought that he was a pretty decent marksman, but as he compared his result with the of his 2IC, he felt a twinge of jealousy in his guts. Maybe it was just him, but he'd always thought that a CO was supposed to at least match the skills of his subordinates. His nine millimeter result, though, showed that he was lagging behind significantly.

OoO

Fred tried to tell himself that he hadn't chased his team over the obstacle course twice after their light lunch because he'd been pissed that he'd messed his shooting practice up.

But sometimes, it was just pointless to lie to himself, and so he knew full well that he was thinking bullshit when he came up with the word 'training reasons' in his mind. He'd tried to compensate his anger through the satisfaction of seeing those who had shot better than him crawling through the dirt, and he wasn't exactly proud of it. Except for that little part inside of him that actually was.

The sun was already starting to set outside when he finally allowed his team to go shower, telling them that they would meet at 0700 next morning to continue their training.

His muscles were aching lightly, despite the hot shower he'd had, and his stomach was growling as he walked into the commissary to grab something to eat.

He was longing to go to bed, but he still had enough time to have a look at the personnel files. Curiosity was burning inside of him as he grabbed two sandwiches and an apple.

Upon leaving, he spotted the rest of his team sitting together at one table, looking like students on their first day of high school where nobody knew what to say to each other. For a short moment, he asked himself if he should join them, but he quickly decided against it. He didn't really feel like he would fit in, and he also had those personnel files waiting for him in his duffel bag.

OoO

Joseph's gaze briefly followed Captain McKenzie as he entered the commissary to get something to eat. When he registered that his CO was looking over, he quickly gazed down at his plate, biting his lip while hoping that McKenzie hadn't caught him watching.

If he was completely honest, he was intimidated by the officer. The man had an air of authority, strictness and arrogance around him, and Joseph felt like the Captain could become a rather aggravating man if brought to the edge.

Taking a bite from his sandwich, Joseph asked himself what was going on with the man, and as he swallowed, he let his gaze wander over Captain Johnson and Sergeant Howard, who were eating in silence. They both seemed so unimpressed with McKenzie's behaviour, and he asked himself if he just hadn't served under enough COs to simply go with their attitudes without questioning them. He wished he knew more about the two of them, but he couldn't seem to find a decent topic to start a conversation with.

It was something that was new to him – normally, he didn't have problems with opening his mouth and talking to whomever.

But these two... in the last two days, he'd seen what they could do, and he felt like an amateur next to them; like an unimportant side character that was lucky enough to be mentioned from time to time. The cleaning lady of Batman. The stormtrooper that walked through the screen before being shot.

They were the superheroes and he was the pitiful sidekick.

"Do you know what I'm asking myself? About Captain McKenzie. I mean, what's wrong with him? He always looks like he's mad or annoyed," Joseph whispered to his comrades, leaning forward slightly. He had voiced this thought in the same second as it had crossed his mind, and a moment later, he realised that two soldiers way above his pay grade probably weren't the best company to openly speak his mind about his CO in.

 _To Be Continued..._

(Little anecdote: The scene in the infirmary was written after a real event; part of it happened during my physical examination for the Navy XD Or: one of the times it was an advantage to be female)


	6. Kings Of The Training Ground - Part 2

For Sergeant William Howard, I did choose Conrad Coleby. I know him from the Australian series 'Sea Patrol', and I felt like there was no one better for the job ;)

Wow, uh, sorry, this chapter became a bit longer than intented^^ And I'm currently more focussed on my Harry Potter writing, sorry for that; I hope that I'll be able to concentrate on this project in the future!

Thanks a lot to my fellow Wanderer Rose, who betaed this for me :)

3770

* * *

 **Kings Of The Training Ground**

Part 2

Joseph inwardly braced himself for some harsh words. He was biting his tongue and cursed himself for saying such a dumb thing about a superior officer in front of two other superior officers. Could he have done anything worse?

However, the scolding didn't come.

Both the Captain and the Sergeant said nothing, even though they were reacting to his words by giving him a disapproving glare, executed simultaneously, causing Joseph to blush. He hurried to concentrate on his sandwich as if it was the center of his world.

A few long minutes filled with an awkward silence passed, and Joseph wished that he had been able to keep his tongue in check earlier. He didn't know if he had just fucked up royally – they weren't reacting as strongly as he had expected.

Suddenly, Johnson cocked her head to the side, a slightly pensive expression wiping the glare away and she lowered her voice, so only he and Howard could hear her:"That's his resting bitch face."

Joseph's jaw dropped and for a second, he couldn't believe what he had just heard. He stared at the officer, his dark eyes wide and his surprise showing openly on his face. She looked as casual as someone who had just made a remark about the weather. Sergeant Howard showed no real outer reaction at all, though Joseph would've sworn by his life that he heard him chuckle lowly next to him.

"Completely unofficially, of course," she added and now, Howard didn't seem to keep his lips from curling slightly as he nodded and raised his hands defensively.

"Of course, Ma'am," the Sergeant replied in a playful conspiratorial tone, and for a second, Joseph thought he saw something like pride flash through the man's blue eyes before he decided that he'd probably imagined it.

"No word about it, Ma'am," he said and the atmosphere at their table lightened perceptibly, despite the words that Captain Johnson directed at Joseph:"I thoroughly hope you will stick to this. You should learn to keep your tongue in check in front of superior officers, and especially in front of Captain McKenzie. He doesn't really appear to be the joking-around type of officer, understood?"

OoO

Meanwhile, Fred had settled down on his bunk, eating the last bits of his sandwich and cleaning his hands of crumbs before grabbing the first file from the pile he had placed next to him on top of his blanket.

It was the of Airman First Class Martinez, and upon seeing the birthdate, Fred once again realised how young the man from Los Angeles really was. He'd only been in the Air Force for about four years, and had completed a pile of medical training courses; otherwise, the file was clearer than any other he'd seen before. He couldn't really see a reason why someone would've chosen this young, relatively inexperienced enlisted for the SGC.

Skipping through some of the evaluations written by former superior officers, Fred learned that the man was perceived as engaged and skilled in both military and medic means. If he was honest, it slightly contradicted the picture he had so far of the young man. It seriously sounded like Martinez was performing under his abilities so far, and he couldn't find a reason why he would do such a thing. He would have to keep a closer eye on him.

Closing the file, he tossed it aside and grabbed the next one, which turned out to belong to Master Sergeant Howard.

His eyes briefly wandered over the points stating something about his EMT college degree from New York and how he was an honour graduate from basic training. Then, Fred spotted something he had already suspected: after a few years as a parachutist and paramedic, Howard had joined special operations. As part of a Pararescue unit, he obviously had done a bunch of classified missions overseas, the file didn't give much away about those, but it was clear why.

The amount of awards and decorations the Sergeant had was impressive, including the Master Parachutist Badge and the Longevity Service award, and he really couldn't remember whether he had ever met someone else who had been honoured with the Purple Heart.

There was only one file left; the one he had been most curious reading about – that of Captain Tessa Johnson.

She was only about two years younger than him, and had taken a somewhat similar way into the Air Force, as she hadn't attended the Air Force Academy either. A little question mark appeared in his head as he read the words 'Princeton University' and 'Political Sciences', and combined them with the absence of scholarship mentions. He asked himself why she was here at all. Princeton, no scholarship; it sounded a lot like she was from a wealthy family. The military wasn't always the most prestigious choice for their offspring.

On the other hand, he was holding an impressive record of a career in his hands – honour graduate in basic training, excellent marks in flight school, a very commendatory evaluation from her last squadron commander, at least from what he saw as he skipped through the long texts. She had even attended extra training, was wearing the Small Arms Expert Marksmanship Ribbon. Still, he felt as though he was missing something as he tried to form a picture of her.

Then, he reached the most recent addition to the file, and a sound of understanding escaped him as some of his questions were suddenly answered. His lips silently moving along with the lines he read, he took in the information the report from Colonel Ronson provided. He had been the one to recommend her for the SGC, but he obviously had also been the one to put a spanner in her works.

" _While Captain Johnson displays a lot of engagement and camaraderie and possesses the required skills to lead an off-world team, it is my belief that she isn't the most recommendable choice for the post of the commanding officer of SG-12. Though she is an ambitious and promising young officer, Captain Johnson has proved to be impulsive and unable to control her temper in situations in which a cool head is needed. However, it still is my opinion that we shouldn't lose such a talented officer; her intuition, intelligence and also her stubbornness come to her advantage in most of the cases, and there never was a time in which her team couldn't rely on her. If given time to evolve, Captain Johnson will likely become one of the most valuable team leaders the SGC ever had."_

Fred stared at the paper with mixed feelings. So Johnson had been in on the race for the post of SG-12's commanding officer, and had been deemed as not ready yet, resulting in him ultimately being seen as the best candidate. This could explain her attitude towards him; he had her job, so to speak, and after the events of the previous day, she probably even thought of him as the most incompetent officer for the job. He had triumphed over her, because he didn't have the same flaws...

On the other hand, he felt like he had still been the second to best choice. The way Colonel Ronson had written about her in his evaluation – he seemed to be impressed by her. Fred couldn't remember reading a single report about himself in which a superior officer had written such fond words about him, while also being critical.

If he was honest with himself, he felt the ugly sting of jealousy; everything just looked too much like she was being seen as the better officer overall, and he had just gotten the post because he had a tad more control over himself.

OoO

In the next few days, Fred successfully managed to swallow down his feelings concerning the information he had gathered about his 2IC. However, he still watched out for the traits that had been described in her evaluations, just out of curiosity.

Even though he was searching for the impulsiveness and the hot temper in vain, it was obvious that she worked together very well with the other members of the team, fulfilling the expectation he had had after reading about her teamwork abilities. Especially with Sergeant Howard she seemed to match, they worked together flawlessly without exchanging many words, and even managed to pull Martinez along with them, even though the young man was still hanging behind that tiny bit. He always seemed to find something to downplay his weaknesses with, but at least Fred could see that he was trying very hard.

Sometimes Fred asked himself if he was running by a schedule that was too tight woven, but he decided to observe all of it for a bit longer before taking action. It wasn't as if Martinez was completely incapable of anything; he was an excellently trained soldier, but especially Johnson and Howard were even better. They seriously could give Fred a run for his money, and he really tried not to feel threatened.

If he was honest, he felt a little bit left out when he saw how well the others already functioned together. During the countless teambuilding exercises he could see a connection between them already, while he felt like a foreign body in their middle. Even though they didn't particularly exclude him and worked well with him during the team exercises, he still didn't seem to be a part of the team.

On the other hand, he was used to that; he'd never been able to get close to the people of teams he had worked in previously. He was just focussed too much on keeping a professional distance, he assumed. A strength that often became a great weakness, but it was a habit he couldn't get rid off. It was simply the way he functioned best.

And while Johnson, Howard and Martinez sat together during the meals, casually chatting between obstacle courses, runs and shooting exercises, he inwardly shook his head whenever the thought of joining them crossed his mind.

But upon closer inspection, he also had more a important thing to worry about, and it had a name: Major Warren, resident pissed off Marine, and the orientation run the Major was organising for SG-12.

Normally, he would be looking forward to it. It was one of the parts of basic training that he had liked, even though he'd gotten lost during the very first walk and had sprained his ankle on the second one. But, as he knew that Warren would not let the opportunity slide to get back at him for what had happened on the planet whose name Fred had already forgotten, he wasn't too keen to leave the bed that morning to pack his gear. It went without saying that Warren already had something nasty in store for him.

However, when he reached the meeting point outside the base, he was surprised and slightly concerned about how polite Major Warren behaved as he handed out the cards with the coordinates of stations they had to reach and map extracts. He even gave Captain Johnson and him something that was probably supposed to be a smile by Marine standards. For a moment, he thought he saw something like suspicion cross the woman's features, but then, she simply turned around, checking her navigation aids.

"Good luck," Warren told Fred as he took his card from him and signed that he had received his equipment. It sounded casual enough to Fred, and he nodded at the Marine with a neutral expression.

OoO

Hours later, Fred realised that he indeed should have suspected something when Warren had handled him in this way-too-friendly manner.

He really should have foreseen it, but now, he was already standing in the middle of nowhere with the wrong set of coordinates, a manipulated card and the desire to shoot a certain Marine. A Marine who was probably sitting in the shadow of a tree right now, sipping a cold lemonade with a triumphant smile.

The map wasn't even fit to wipe his ass with, as it would leave ink smears back there!

Which meant in short, that he only had his compass to rely on. He also had to accept the prospect of arriving at the base without a single one of the set of letters that they were supposed to be copying at the stations. That was a royal failure, and he really wished there was a way to get around the embarrassment.

Shaking in fury, he tried to clear his mind enough to remember any landmarks that he could use to find his way back while using the compass. A low growl escaped him and he kicked away some dry branches and leaves as he realised that it would take hours to get back.

OoO

William Howard inhaled the clear, earthy forest air, the crunching noise of the leaves sounding like music in his ears. He'd always liked orientation walks; the solitude, the nature, being alone with his thoughts... It was a little bit like a holiday during work.

Marching through the forest gave him time to think about everything that had happened in the last few days; he could ponder about details without anybody interrupting and telling him to get his head out of the clouds.

That orientation wasn't particularly hard for him helped him a lot; he'd done this a hundred times, under more adverse conditions, therefore this exercise was a walk in the park for him. Though, after jumping out of a plane over unknown territory in Iraq and carrying an injured pilot through the desert towards a meeting place while trying not to be detected by the enemy, everything like this appeared to be a lot easier. He of course took these exercises seriously, but thanks to some automatisms, he could concentrate on several things at the same time.

While scribbling down the letter combination of his next checkpoint, he thought about his new team members. There was Martinez, the chick, as he called him in his head, who still had a lot to learn and reminded him a little bit of himself when he'd been his age. Not always as composed as he was supposed to be, a tiny bit cocky... But he was sure that that boy was one of the good ones.

He could work together with Martinez very nicely so far, just as he was with Captain Johnson. In his long career, he'd come across a big bunch of junior officers. He was sure he knew most kinds, but she had proven that there was another new type. They hadn't had time for a decent conversation so far, but his gut-feeling told him that she was one of the best officers he'd ever worked with. When she addressed him, he could sense a great portion of respect, more than the usual kind every member of the military had for the other. Also, her skills impressed him greatly, and he was sure that he would follow her into the battle without a moment of hesitation.

That was something he couldn't say about Captain McKenzie; so far, his impression of their commanding officer had been mostly negative. The little stunt the Captain had pulled during that rescue mission had left a bitter taste in his mouth, and he still couldn't believe that McKenzie had been ignorant enough to do something like that. In his fifteen years in the Air Force, he'd never experienced something like that – of course, there had been a few incidents with overly arrogant soldiers who'd thought that they were the brightest candle on the cake.

However, none of them had done something comparable, and he asked himself what had really driven the Captain in that moment. It could have gotten them all killed, after all. It had forced them to fight their way through, whereas without McKenzie's brilliant idea, they would have managed to sneak away without shooting a single bullet.

He would keep an eye on McKenzie, that was for sure, and he was convinced that he wasn't the only one doing so.

Before he'd really registered it, he reached his last checkpoint, and after having a look over the letter combinations he'd jotted down, he determined which one was the fastest way back to base. A short look onto his wrist watch told him that he was flying before the time he'd estimated for the task. After checking his compass and the map, he started a light jog, looking forward to a shower – it was a really warm day, and even in the forest it was sticky – and a sandwich.

About half an hour later, he could spot the Alpha Site from between the trees, and Major Warren, who was sitting in the shadow of a tree, sheltering himself from the midday sun. He was wearing sunglasses and was occupied with taking his 9 millimeter apart to clean it, and only when Will stopped in front of the Marine, he acknowledged his presence.

"Sergeant Howard... just whom I expected. Combination card," the Major said while checking his watch to write down Will's time. Will handed him the map and the card and wiped the sweat from his forehead before grabbing his water bottle. The day had heated up pretty fast, and he was happy that he was already through – he didn't particularly fancy standing in a pool of his own sweat.

While Major Warren was still checking if Will had taken the right path, he heard steps behind him, and he couldn't mask his surprise as he saw Captain Johnson walking towards him, taking off her pilot sunglasses.

"Hey boys, having a little tea party?"

"Captain. Only ten minutes slower than Sergeant Howard. Impressive."

"Sergeant, did you stop to pick flowers?" Johnson winked at Will while handing Warren her card and map. Will chuckled lightly, a smile lighting his features.

"All checkpoints are correct, Sergeant. You may shower and grab something to eat. Until Captain McKenzie returns, you can do whatever you want. Captain, your combinations are right as well."

OoO

After a quick shower, Will grabbed a few sandwiches from the commissary and went outside, deciding to take advantage of the free time he'd been granted and enjoy the sun. Warren was still sitting under his tree, and Will wasn't too keen to join him. He found himself a spot a few meters away. In the shadow of a tree that resembled a willow, he sat down on the ground and started eating, stretching his long legs out a bit.

He wasn't completely through his first sandwich when Johnson appeared next to him, securing her damp hair in a bun while asking:"Sergeant. May I sit down?"

"Sure, Ma'am," Will answered after a short moment of hesitation and the young Captain plopped down, putting her sunglasses on. "Do you want a sandwich?"

"Oh, thank you," she mumbled, the smallest of smiles appearing on her lips as she took the wrapped sandwich he offered her. For a few minutes, they just sat there, eating their sandwiches while listening to the birds singing in the branches.

Will normally kept his distance to officers, especially junior officers. They often meant trouble, however with Johnson, he had a different gut-feeling. She seemed tolerant, skilled… she was working well with him, and he hadn't often come across an officer with whom he'd been able to work together smoothly from day one.

"May I ask you something, Ma'am?" he broke the silence after some time, curiosity taking over for a moment.

"Sure, ask away," she responded, shoving her sunglasses up over her forehead so she could look at him.

"How did you do it? I mean, being nearly as fast as me?"

A witty grin spread over her face, making her eyes gleam, and for a moment, he thought that she would laugh about his question.

"I may have shorter legs, Sergeant, but I've got my tricks."

The conspiratorial tone in her voice made him smile, and she leaned over a bit, as if she was about to tell him some confidential information.

"I had two excellent teachers. My father, and Sergeant Crews. They taught me everything I know today about navigation. Crews was tough, he chased us through forests for hours, but I learnt a lot from him."

A lot of respect for the man was audible, enforcing the good feeling he already had about her. Nodding faintly, he stared at the trees, not knowing what to say next, until something crossed his mind a few minutes later.

"Martinez told me what happened before McKenzie nearly got shot by Warren," Will said casually, knowing fully well that he sounded a little bit too appreciative.

"I know, it wasn't right to confront him in front of everyone, but… well, I reacted before thinking it through completely."

"Well, the most important thing probably is that you opposed him at all."

Johnson sighed and ran a hand over her head. With one look, he could tell that she was still feeling bitter about what McKenzie had pulled off. He knew the feeling, even though he hadn't been there himself.

"So, Martinez, huh?" she asked, obviously to change the topic. Her expression had told him that she would rather not rant right now.

"Our chick is huge in gossip. I just sat around, suspecting nothing, and then he promptly started talking about the incident. And now I know every single detail."

"I have to admit that I am not particularly surprised by that," Johnson grinned, shaking her head lightly. "He seems to love to talk."

"He does," Will chuckled as he recalled the conversation he'd had with the Airman.

The afternoon slowly dribbled by; he and Johnson made some light conversation, talking about training methods and books. It was something he'd been looking forward to: getting to know the people he would work with.

More than once, Johnson made an ingenious remark, and so he had an amusing day. The sky was already coloured rose and light blue when they spotted a figure at the outskirts of the forest. Before they could identify it as Captain McKenzie, they already heard the loud curses. Johnson stifled a laugh as he walked towards Major Warren. Only one look was enough to tell Will that McKenzie was fuming, and close to exploding.

 _To Be Continued..._


	7. Kings Of The Training Ground - Part 3

For Captain Tessa Johnson, I did chose Emma Stone - she's one of my favourite actresses, and I feel like Tessa could fit her.

Sorry that this took so damn long again – I was hit by inspiration, but only for Harry Potter and Captain America, unfortunately. I will now try to finish this episode without a month between every chapter and then pre-write a bit more than usual, so it's back to the original plan, with a period of time between episodes but less time between chapters.

Also, I haven't decided yet, but it could be that I'll enter this into the NaNoWriMo 2016 in November, from Episode 3 on. I'm not so sure about it, as it's an insane goal, but I'll plan everything out and then see how I feel about it.

This one is a bit shorter, but I have the next done already!

Entry for the _Gringotts Prompt Bank_

Thanks a lot to Emily, who betaed this for me! :)

(2080)

* * *

 **Kings Of The Training Ground**

Part 3

"Oh, this is going to be good," Johnson mumbled next to Will, and he didn't dare to take his eyes off Captain McKenzie as the came to stop in front of Major Warren, nearly throwing his map at the Major's feet instead of handing it to him.

"Captain, what is this?" Warren asked smugly, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You don't have any checkpoints! What were you doing out there, teatime?"

"You know fully well why I have no fucking checkpoints!" McKenzie exclaimed, his voice sounding pressed and nearly shrill, as if he was really close to losing his composure. Warren still looked rather casual, unimpressed by the ticking bomb, also known as Captain McKenzie's temper, and Will could tell that this calmness was driving their CO just as mad as loud words would have.

"And why would that be, Captain?"

Will could see from the corner of his eye how Captain Johnson started to quiver, her hand pressed over her mouth, and it was obvious that she was trying not to laugh out aloud, something that would draw the anger of their CO towards her.

OoO

Fred was shaking in anger and he desperately tried to control himself as he answered: "I believe that you fucking manipulated my map and my coordinates. This was a shitty move. Sir."

It was as if he was caught between anger that was ready to break out and the manners towards superior officers that he'd been taught since his earliest days in the military.

Warren snorted loudly and something like a vicious expression crossed his face as he got to his feet, closing the distance between Fred and him so he was actually stepping onto his toes. The Marine was a few centimeters taller than him, and his derogatory gaze only intensified the feeling of being looked down at that shot through Fred in that moment.

"A shitty move, _Captain_? I tried to test your abilities, there's no need to whine."

"You did that on purpose, because you're still pissed about-"

"About you being unable to follow a very simple order? I fuckin' said 'stay!' and you decided to run and get our asses deeper into a clusterfuck!"

Only now did Fred realise that it was probably a really dumb and foremost pointless idea to argue with Warren; though he wasn't sharing the Major's opinion, the man probably thought that he deserved to have his head dipped into the toilet, so to speak.

However, the order 'Shut the fuck up' didn't get processed by his brain in time to keep his mouth from spitting out: "You're an arrogant asshole, Warren."

Why was he feeling so weary of living lately? That was really the dumbest thing he could have said…

"Be careful, or I'll have you by the balls and make you swallow them. If you do shit like that again I'll make your life a living hell, and I can only hope that the rest of your team recognises early enough when you're losing it, so they won't get killed because you're so fucking stup-"

Just as Warren looked as if he was about to grab Fred by the throat and shake him until he begged for his mum to pick him up, they were interrupted by a noise coming from the outskirts of the forest.

Martinez stumbled out of the forest, his uniform dripping wet and covered with dirt. He looked pretty shaken up, a few light scratches covered his forehead, but he had something like a triumphant grin on his face as he approached the Major and the Captain. Saluting to the two officers, he handed over his map and card, sounding a little bit breathless as he said: "Airman Martinez asking for permission to fall over and fall asleep on the spot, Sir."

The young man winced as Fred's dark gaze hit him; he knew that it wasn't right to glare at Martinez just because he was in a bad mood by now, but he couldn't help it. Though his throat was sore from trying not to scream, he asked rather calmly: "What happened with you, Airman?"

Martinez blushed lightly and looked down his dirty uniform, trying in vain to wipe some of the mud off. His answer came out rather muffled, and it was impossible to not notice his embarrassment.

"I... uh... fell into the little stream east from here... wasn't watching where I was going."

A distant snicker told them that he'd still spoken loud enough for his teammates under the tree to hear, the young man's blush only intensifying. Fred glared in their direction, feeling like it wasn't exactly nice of them to make fun of Martinez, when he realised that Johnson and Howard were whispering. From time to time, one of the two would gaze over at him, and suddenly, his face started to glow warmly.

They were making fun of him as well.

"Here, McKenzie, the times," Warren's growl ripped him from his thoughts and the Major slammed his clipboard against Fred's chest before he marched towards one of the buildings. Fred found that the Marine was showing his disappointment about not having been able to kill him a little bit too openly.

Trying to hide his blush, Fred followed the Major, longing for a shower. He was caught somewhere between anger and embarrassment, and he thought that it was best to just keep quiet for the rest of the day. Inwardly, though, he was screaming; cursing Warren for exposing him in this way in front of his whole team, for letting him appear like a blockhead who was unable to do anything. And he was also annoyed about Sergeant Howard and especially about Captain Johnson; as he walked past them, he could see that the Captain's face had the colour of a tomato. She was looking as if she was nearly choking on the laughs she tried to hold back; her hand was pressed over her mouth, her body shaking and her eyes watering.

This day was really one to forget; something that seemed to happen alarmingly often at the moment.

OoO

As soon as McKenzie had turned his back to them, Will could hear Johnson snort loudly and take a few deep breaths. She was wiping her eyes with her sleeves while mumbling: "Sorry, I didn't mean to."

Will grinned, winking politely. "No problem, Ma'am. I won't tell anybody, though I guess that the Captain saw that."

"I guess he won't believe me when I say that I choked on myself?"

"Unlikely. Maybe he'll forget about it if no one mentions it again," Will suggested and she nodded, running a hand over her hair.

For a long moment, they were both silent, just sitting next to each other, staring at the peaceful forest until Johnson suddenly said: "I had a look through Captain McKenzie's file. I wanted to know what kind of person we're supposed to follow into danger."

Will looked up with interest, curious about what she may have found, but she didn't appear to be overly enthusiastic.

"Nothing out of the ordinary. Came into the Air Force over the Officer Training School after graduating in Georgia. One tour in Iraq, good recommendations… though one of his former COs wrote that he tends to stick to the rules so tightly that he's unable to improvise. That's certainly the opposite from what we saw."

He made a noise of agreement, trying to fit the information into the image he had of their commanding officer so far. A young officer having his first command post, eager to show his superiors that it had been the right decision and screwing things up because he was too focussed on giving a good performance. It was something he'd already seen countless times, so he wasn't surprised anymore when yet another officer like that came across him.

"Nobody's perfect, no matter how hard we try, Ma'am," he stated after a long moment, and she smiled at him.

"Perfection tires me," she responded, and he felt like she wasn't only talking about the job. "It takes away the room for interpretation and your own expression. One reason why I don't strive for it. Marilyn Monroe once said that imperfection is beauty, and I agree with her."

"Maybe we'll have to teach McKenzie to loosen up a little bit from time to time."

OoO

The air was pressed out of Fred's lungs as he hit the mat hard, feeling like a bloody rookie as Sergeant Howard towered above him, offering him a hand while saying calmly and politely: "Excuse me, Sir. That may have been a little bit too hard."

Fred bit back a comment and allowed the man to pull him to his feet while asking himself if he'd imagined the ugly cracking noise in his back when he'd moved. Grabbing his water bottle, he took a moment to rest and see what Johnson and Martinez were doing. The young Airman seemed to have his fun tumbling over the floor in the most awkward poses as Johnson was pulling off some impressive Krav Maga moves – or maybe they just looked impressive because Martinez' expression was flabbergasted every single time he saw her coming towards him. His attempts of blocking her offenses were adventurous and rather desperate, and Fred felt a little bit guilty as he inwardly chuckled.

But no matter how funny it was, it also showed him once again how unpolished Martinez still was. They'd been training for a week now, and it was time for him to make a resume about how his team was doing so far. While he engaged in some light boxing with Howard and listened to the less than excited groans coming from Martinez, he let the week pass by again, noting the most positive and negative events.

Captain Johnson and Sergeant Howard were already working very well together, and their skills were impressive. Though he sometimes felt like they weren't so good at including him or Martinez; they seemed to know what the other one was about to do and went along with it – they didn't have such a connection to the rest of them. And so the team felt a little bit as if it was split into two halfs, and Fred felt like he himself was failing to bring them together again and form the effective team he was aiming to form them to.

Also, Johnson wasn't the most communicative type, and he felt a little bit lost about how to approach her so they could become a command duo that worked well together. Maybe that was his own shortcoming – that he'd spent too many years having a professional distance between him and fellow officers so he had forgotten how to establish such a bond to people who were a little bit different. She was a person who had no problem with openly disagreeing with him and she'd already had the guts to take him aside in the middle of the forest to tell him that he was doing badly.

However, Johnson and his inability to find a way to make her work with him wasn't his biggest problem. His team – if you could already say that it was a team – had a weak spot that could possibly a danger. Airman Martinez still wasn't showing the amount of skill that one ought to be able to expect from him at this point, and even though he was getting along very well with Johnson and Howard, Fred had to consider a step he would rather not do. It would be a hard decision, and he would rather not make it on his own.

But he had to do something about the performances that Martinez was showing, and if he wanted or not, he would have to talk to Johnson about what they should do.

Suddenly, he was hit by Howard's gloved fist and a second later he was sitting on his arse, shaking his head in confusion and hearing a certain woman chuckle under her breath. And while he pushed himself to his feet and walked towards the showers, he really wished for a second that they'd given him a 2IC that was a little bit less amused about seeing him fail from time to time.

 _To Be Continued..._


	8. Kings Of The Training Ground - Part 4

Airman Joseph Martinez is Ben Barnes in my head :)

Entry for the _Gringotts Prompt Bank_

Thank you to Emily, who betaed this for me! :)

(2040)

* * *

 **Kings Of The Training Ground**

Part 4

After taking a shower and inspecting the bruises that were already beginning to form on his chest and back – Fred swore himself to never get distracted by his thoughts during training again – he made his way towards the commissary for a coffee and a snack. Coincidentally, he spotted Captain Johnson sitting at a table in the corner, and he decided that this was probably the best moment to talk to her about Martinez.

She was alone, the commissary was almost empty, and she looked very relaxed with her feet on the chair opposite to her and an open book in her hand. A steaming cup of tea was standing on the table, together with a half-eaten portion of french fries.

Johnson didn't look up from her book as he approached her, even though he was sure that she'd noticed as presence, and only after he'd cleared his throat did she look up from the page she was reading.

"May I sit down, Captain?"

"Sure," she replied in a neutral tone, though the glance with which she was eyeing him was questioning. Fred took a seat on the chair that wasn't occupied by her boots and suppressed the need to shuffle nervously, as he just realised that he hadn't spared a single thought on how to start the conversation with her. Johnson had turned her attention back to her book already; the fingers of her left hand were absent-mindedly playing with the book mark that was lying on the table next to her plate, and Fred caught himself studying her face.

He'd only seen her in various states of stress, anger or concentration so far, and it was a little bit like she was lowering her mask in this moment, allowing him to have a peek at the woman behind it. Her green eyes were wandering over the lines of the book in a steady pace, barely ever pausing, and from time to time, he could see her biting her lip while knitting her brows, deep in thought.

Fred had no idea why it was drawing him in so much that he really had to force himself to concentrate on his coffee. It wasn't like someone reading was the most fascinating sight the world had ever seen, and he wouldn't exactly say that he liked Johnson. He would have to put up with her, and he was sure that there would never be more than tolerance.

"So, what are you reading?" he suddenly heard himself blurt out, and he felt like he thoroughly deserved the 'Are you serious?' glance she was throwing him.

One eyebrow cocked, she turned her book with an irritated expression to take a look at the cover and then responded slowly: "Tolstoy. War and Peace."

"Ah," he mumbled and hurried to take a huge gulp from his coffee, burning his tongue heavily in the process. Surely this hadn't brought a positive change to the image of an idiot she seemed to have of him, and he wished he hadn't sat with her. Their first real conversation, and he made a fool out of himself. Again.

OoO

Tessa looked at McKenzie for a long moment, asking herself if Sergeant Howard may have hit the Captain's head a little bit too hard during combat training. Though she still hadn't the best opinion of him, she really hadn't thought that he would be able to go for something that she'd only heard from numskulls so far. And why wasn't he just telling her why he was sitting with her? It surely wasn't because he enjoyed her company so much, so he definitely had an intention, and she hated it when people hemmed and hawed instead of being straightforward.

"Why are you here, Sir?" she asked after putting her book down, crossing her arms in front of her chest and giving him an expectant look.

"We need to talk about Martinez," McKenzie stated after a moment, trying to look practical but Tessa almost immediately made him roll his eyes in annoyance as she gave him a fake surprised look and mouthed "Really?"

She just couldn't keep herself from teasing him a little bit for actually trying to work with her, and it was obvious that it took him a lot of self-control to ignore the smirk that was playing around the corners of her lips. Clearing his throat, he continued: "I think we need to do something about him, and as my second in command, I think you should take part in the decision process. When I look at the team, it becomes obvious that Martinez is a bit of a weak link. It may be wise to request a transfer for him."

Tessa blinked a few times, not sure if she'd understood him. He wanted to throw Martinez out of the team because the first week of training had gone badly? Before she could bite her tongue, one of her current thoughts slipped out. "So you're taking the coward's way out?"

"Excuse me?"

Deciding not to back down, she sat up straight in her chair and returned the stare he was giving her, saying: "Well, it's easy to get a new second medic instead of investing some effort and patience into a young soldier who still has a lot to learn. Sir."

She hadn't really thought that he would be convinced immediately, and like she'd foreseen, he gave her a sceptical look. "What makes you so sure that he's already able to become a full-fledged member of an SG team? He's so young."

"We can know only that we know nothing. And that is the highest degree of human wisdom," she cited, shrugging, which caused him to look even more confused. "Sir, you can never know. Martinez may become a very valuable comrade one day, or not; neither of us can say for certain. But as you said, he's young and he's formable. Without trying, we might never find out what potentials slumber inside of him. And isn't it the motto of the Stargate Command to never leave a man behind?"

Of course she was aware that she was sounding surprisingly passionate about the subject, but she felt like this was the right time and place for that. In her opinion, it seemed like their little chick was having big insecurities that he tried to conceal, and she also thought that throwing him out would only make things worse – for him, and the team.

McKenzie looked somewhat impressed by her statement and she was glad that he didn't act arrogant this time but listened to what she had to say. It was a nice change, and she hoped that he would stay in his listening mood for a little bit longer – she felt like he might be easier to work with that way. But one should never count the chickens before they were actually hatched, and so she wasn't too happy about what he was saying next.

"Good." McKenzie sighed, and a small smirk appeared on his face. "Congratulations, you just volunteered to train him, Captain."

"What?"

Tessa blinked and glared at him in disbelief; though she didn't regret that she'd spoke up to her CO, she felt like she could have formulated her opinion a little bit more objectively.

"It seems like you have great faith in him. Also I guess if he has a problem, you would be able to reach him easier."

"And what makes you think that I'm capable of that? I'm sure that Sergeant Howard would be better suited for the task," Tessa responded, feeling like she already knew his answer, daring him not to say it with a scowl, but it was no use.

"Well, you're a woman..."

She nearly jumped over the table as he said that; and really, her muscles actually did twitch visibly as she balled her hands into fists and took a deep breath. Was he really just using the cliché of women being able to give motherly advice to every person that ran past? It took her a lot of self-control not to tell him where he could put this stupid idea, and that she hadn't been kicking arses for the last years of her career only to be reduced to the mum once again.

" _What?_ "

Her voice was reduced to a horrible hiss, showing off how offended she was, and for the faintest of seconds, McKenzie looked like a deer in the headlights. Then, he squared his shoulders and cleared his throat before responding: "That was an order, Captain. You believe in him, so make me believe in him, too. Or aren't you up for a challenge?"

"You're getting cocky. You really don't want him to experience why none of my friends asked me to be their children's godmother so far." Tessa sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, annoyed about feeling it itch inside of her. She really didn't want to appear like she wouldn't be able to manage this, it was just that she could see a potentially very personal talk with the Airman coming up, and for such conversations, you had to reveal a little bit of yourself as well – something she really didn't like to do. _Especially_ with people she hadn't known for very long.

McKenzie was giving her a fucking smug grin, his piercing, pale blue eyes gleaming as he leaned forwards, his elbows resting on the table as he looked directly into her eyes and said: "I bet you're not able to improve his close combat and marksman skills significantly until the scheduled end of our training, Captain. Now, who's the coward?"

He seemed to sense her defiant reluctance and also found the right way to push her into doing what he wanted. She wasn't someone to turn down a challenge, especially when someone told her that she wasn't able to do something – it hit a nerve deep inside of her. Maybe because she'd been told all her life by various people that she couldn't do something, because it was a goal too big for her age or for a _girl_...

And it was probably her task to take care of any people slacking, and it was his right as CO to delegate such matters... Still, she hated it.

Shrugging with a sigh, she growled: "One hundred bucks and you'll need ice for your butt."

She gave him a dark grin which he returned, and for a moment that may have been a tiny bit too long they just stared at each other before McKenzie pushed himself to his feet. Downing the rest of his coffee and taking the snack he'd forgotten to eat from his plate, he said: "Well, I'll leave you to your book again."

OoO

Fred walked out of the commissary, wondering why he was smiling to himself as he headed towards his quarters. Though the conversation hadn't gone as planned, he felt content about the outcome. He felt like Johnson and he had something in common – he wouldn't have said no either had he been in her place. Maybe challenges were the weakness they shared.

But there was one thing that he had to ask himself – who had played whom in the end. She'd completely changed his intentions, but he'd succeeded in making her take over the actual work.

If he was honest, he was more than excited to see how she would do and if she was able to bring out hidden talents in Martinez. Even though he would never admit it to anyone, he knew that she was right – giving Martinez up was the easiest and worst way to get out of this problematic situation. Also, the little conversation, no matter how badly it had started, had been fun. He felt like there was a lot more about her than a beautiful face and a slightly annoyed attitude, and that he'd just seen a little bit of this 'more'.

Now it was her job to show what she was capable of, and if she was really that good or only immensely confident.

 _To Be Continued..._


	9. Kings Of The Training Ground - Part 5

Thank You to Liza, who had a look over this chapter! :)

(1960 Words)

* * *

 **Kings Of The Training Ground**

Part 5

Tessa sighed and rolled her shoulders, making something in her neck crack as she walked towards the gym, where she knew Martinez and Howard to be at the moment. She really wasn't motivated to do this, but she had no choice – doing something sloppily wasn't an option to her. Therefore, the earlier she started with training Martinez, the earlier she would be done and could concentrate on her own business again. Also, she could barely wait for the day on which the chick would kick Captain McKenzie's ass.

He didn't need to know that she indeed had a godchild that was able to ride a bike only thanks to her, even though her teaching methods were... unorthodox. But the only thing that mattered was that the girl was riding her bike, and she would win these one hundred bucks.

Speaking of the devil... McKenzie happened to walk into the opposite direction, cocking an eyebrow as he saw her. While walking by, he whispered teasingly: "Be gentle, Captain."

"Yes, Sir," she growled back, grimacing as he turned his back to her and vanished into one of the locker rooms. She would do this her way, and it wouldn't be gentle, but it would work, of that she was thoroughly convinced. And maybe, only maybe she was driven by the desire to see that smug grin being wiped off the man's face...

Pushing the doors to the gym open, a tiny grin appeared on her lips as she saw Martinez performing CPR on a dummy; he saw her from the corner of his eye as he blew some air into the false lungs and immediately flushed. Sergeant Howard chuckled, just as if he could hear the remark that had just shot through her mind, but she'd decided against saying it out aloud.

"Martinez, I'm very sorry to interrupt this fun exercise," she said, and the young man jumped to his feet, his face resembling a ripe tomato by now. "Captain McKenzie asked me to train you, considering that you're a bit behind."

A trace of fear ghosted over Joseph's face and he shuffled, then he suddenly appeared completely confident again, nodding while answering: "Okay, Ma'am, when are we going to start?"

"Are you done here, Sergeant?"

Tessa gestured at the various pieces of medic equipment on the ground, and Will did actually wink as he replied: "He's all yours, Ma'am."

"Don't worry, we'll have a lot of fun, Airman."

OoO

Fred stepped outside, stopping next to Sergeant Howard under the awning. The man was leaning against one of the pillars, sipping a cup of tea and staring out onto the space in front of the building. It was raining heavily, everything was muddy, and everybody who dared to cross the short distance between the buildings of the Alpha Site was soaked within a few moments. Therefore, nobody was outside, except they really had to.

"How long have they been doing this now?" Fred asked curiously as he followed the Sergeant's gaze, his eyes landing on two figures that were just visible in the rain, their clothing blending in – especially the of Martinez, as he was muddy from head to toe.

Howard raised his arm, taking a short look at his watch, then responded dryly: "About two hours and twenty one minutes, Sir. He's holding up pretty well."

Little groans of pain were audible, the sounds drifting over the area in front of the buildings. They couldn't really see Martinez' face, but Fred was sure that the young man was gritting his teeth. The rain thinned a bit after a good minute, and then he could see it clearer how he was hanging over the ground, his clothes dripping and drenched in mud as he made pushups. Captain Johnson was kneeling next to him, a few damp strands of auburn peeking out from under her hood.

"Come on, Martinez, you got this!" he heard her yell, sounding remarkably cheery considering that she was soaked and kneeling in the mud. "Come on, only ten more!"

"She seems more motivated than she did when I ordered her to take this over," Fred said, barely registering that he had spoken them out loud, his gaze fixed on the two soldiers. Thankfully, Howard didn't say anything, and Fred made a mental note to be more guarded about his tongue – though that was something he normally didn't have problems with.

A loud squashing noise ripped him from his thoughts, and he saw Martinez lying in the mud on his stomach, his forehead lying on his forearm. Johnson jumped to her feet, clapping her hands once before marching towards them, a bright grin on her face as she looked at them from under her hood.

"Oh, I love this job," she exclaimed as she stopped under the awning and pulled off her raincoat, then slipped out of her boots – Fred was sure that those pink wool socks weren't standard issue. "If he's out of the mud tell him I'll see him in the gym in an hour."

OoO

Joseph couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so sore. He was an athletic person, had always been doing a lot of sports, but what Captain Johnson was doing with him made him feel like a complete rookie. Maybe it would have been easier to sign up for the Navy SEALs.

His muscles were on fire all the time, every single step hurt, and even eating his breakfast cereals became a demanding task. If he was feelings exceptionally dark about the extra training that she was putting him through, he thought that she would probably make a good interrogator – his workout with her was like torture. She was making him repeat actions to optimise his reflexes, her strength exercises made him aware of muscles which he'd never thought to exist.

And when he was lying in bed and was completely honest with himself, he seriously considered giving up.

OoO

Tessa unlocked the weapon's locker of the indoor shooting range, chewing around on the inside of her cheek while her fingers took a 9mm from the locker and loaded it in an automated movement. She was pondering, feeling like everything she'd done in the last couple of days hadn't really changed much about Martinez. Her conviction that the boy had everything he needed to become valuable member of SG-12 inside of him was still the same, even though the picture had received a few cracks.

If she really thought about, maybe it didn't have so much to do with his physical capabilities... and she grimaced at the spare magazine she took out of the locker, knowing exactly what this meant for her.

She would need to have a talk with Martinez.

It wasn't that she didn't want to hear what was going on with him – his job was depending on his performance, and she would hate to see him go – but she felt like she wasn't the best advisor. Listening wasn't the problem, but giving answers that would help him to get out of his little hole really wasn't her cup of tea, mostly because it required a certain amount of openness from her side as well. And opening herself to people she barely knew made her fairly uncomfortable.

She heard the door being opened and turned around, stretching her arm to hand Martinez the gun as he walked towards her, limping slightly – obviously she'd kicked him a little bit too hard during their last hand to hand combat training.

He hesitated before taking the gun, and somewhere deep inside of her, she felt bothered by the slightly miserable expression on his face.

"What's wrong, Martinez?" she asked, trying to suppress the sigh that wanted to follow the words.

"Nothing, Ma'am."

She quirked an eyebrow, throwing him a disapproving glance before gesturing towards the empty table that was normally used to polish the weaponry. "Sit."

Martinez looked at her with a trace of fear in his eyes – was she really that intimidating?! – but obeyed, hopping onto the table and she sat down on the edge of it, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "What is bothering you?"

"As I said, Ma'am, nothing. Everything is okay."

"Yeah, sure, I guess something is okay, but definitely not you, Martinez. Do you seriously think I'm not seeing that you're still trying to play your performances down? Are you going to realise that it won't help you to behave like this or am I wasting my time here?"

Inwardly she cursed – this wasn't the way she'd wanted to start this conversation, but on the other hand, she'd never had a talent for subtleness. Maybe Martinez needed a little bit of a shock therapy?

"Listen. We need someone who's a reliable team member, and we really want you to be this soldier, that's why we've been doing this for the last days. But seriously, Airman, how do you expect us to trust you with our lives when you're not open about the problems you obviously have? They affect us all, you're not giving a hundred percent, and that could be lethal. And let me tell you something. Captain McKenzie is going to throw you out of the team if you don't get your shit together."

It obviously had worked out the way she'd planned this, as a guilty look crossed his features and for a second, he nearly looked like a puppy that'd been told to go. She had the urge to pat his shoulder, but stopped herself from doing it; instead, she said: "You can tell me. We're playing on the same team here."

For a long moment, he just stared at the targets hanging on the far side of the building, then, a barely audible sigh escaped him and he run a hand through his neatly combed dark hair. "It's just that I'm completely overwhelmed and intimidated by all of this. When I joined the Air Force I would never had thought that I would end up in an elite team like this, let alone so early in my career.

"I see you all in your dress uniforms and you all have these service medals and you're so experienced and you just never seem to be insecure about your skills. It just makes me feel like I am in the wrong place, like I don't belong here."

While he spoke, Tessa realised that his words happened to be oddly familiar to her, and she nodded along reassuringly.

"You're not wrong here, you're just still at the beginning of everything. Good soldiers aren't only defined by their chest candy, and they certainly don't mean that we're perfect. We all started small and we all had our struggles, and still have them. I swear, every single one of us was at the same point as you are today, thinking about giving up. All these medals show that we never gave up on ourselves."

She tried to smile sympathetically, but she was so overwhelmed by her own ability to find the right words suddenly while sounding rather calm and uplifting that it came out rather crooked. Martinez nodded slowly, looking down at his hands, and she already wanted to congratulate herself for having managed this so well, when a question from him stopped her dead in her tracks.

"What did you struggle with? I mean, what did make you want to give up?"

A cold shiver ran down her spine, and she thoroughly wished that he hadn't asked this – it wasn't exactly a topic she liked to talk about.


	10. Kings Of The Training Ground - Part 6

I'm very sorry, this hasn't been betaed yet as I'm doing a lot of stuff for NaNoWriMo and I don't want to bother the people betaing all the time!

(3040 Words)

* * *

 **Kings Of The Training Grounds**

Part 6

" _What did you struggle with? I mean, what did make you want to give up?"_

Tessa bit her lower lip as a feeling of unease made her shift in her position on the edge of the desk. She had to cross her arms in front of her chest to keep her fingers from playing around with the end of her french braid, a habit that she'd thought she'd gotten rid of. Of course, she didn't exactly owe him an answer, but she felt like this might show him that there was always a way out, if you only had enough courage and the will to overcome the difficulties.

"Uh... I guess there was a lot of pressure... my father is a General with the US Air Force, and I've always felt like I had to show that I'm not only here because he was helping me. But that pressure, all of it came from myself."

Her stomach felt funny, as if she'd drunk too much coffee, but after taking a deep breath, it was okay again.

"But what really had me close to throwing in the towel was an incident during my time as a squadron pilot. I had problems afterwards, and I questioned if I was in the right place, because I seemed unable to overcome my anxiety for quite some time. I would stand in front of my jet, glued to the spot and feel like my fear and the memories were swallowing me."

Unconsciously, her fingers were curling tightly around the material of her BDU jacket, and she tried to keep certain pictures from flashing up in front of her eyes. She was glad that Martinez wasn't commenting on what she was telling him, and she would make sure that he wouldn't run around passing the story later.

"So, I thought about quitting, I had even prepared the papers already, but then I realised that I was running away, and that I was about to throw something away I've dreamt of for so long. Flying the F-16 was all I'd ever wanted since joining the Air Force, and so I decided to fight for this dream again. I worked hard on myself, and a few months later, I climbed into the cockpit again, and in the second I left the ground, I felt how the worst part of the fear vanished."

A small smile played around her lips as her fingers relaxed and she looked at Martinez; the euphoria of being in the air again was something she'd memorised in detail, so she would never forget why she'd gone through those hard years.

"I'm going to tell you something now, Martinez, and I want you to listen closely," she demanded, looking him directly into the eyes. "It's okay to be afraid. Fear is natural, but you should never allow it to consume you! Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

His voice was quiet, and she had the feeling that it hadn't been enough yet to make him realise that he would be able to become good if he only wanted to. Conversations like this really weren't her strength, and a silent curse left her lips.

"Look, as you may have noticed, I'm really not good at the mommy talk. You're not alone with this, we're here to help you, _I_ am here to help you, trust me. There's potential in you, otherwise you wouldn't be here, did you ever think about that?"

She paused, trying hard not to turn her stare into a glare as he shrugged a little bit and looked down at his hands.

"I'm going to say this again, if you don't get better, Captain McKenzie will throw you off the team. I doubt that anybody of us wants that to happen, and if you get your shit together now, it's not going to happen! We all started small once, and we have our imperfections, that's why we need to bring out our strengths."

Martinez still didn't look too motivated, and Tessa started to question her ability to persuade people. Shoving herself away from the table, she turned to look at him, her stance showing off all the authority and confidence she could muster – with him sitting, she was about eye level with him.

"Come on, let's do this. Please don't tell me that I was wrong about you and that you're just going to give up. Damn it, you surely don't want to be the reason why I lose a hundred bucks to Captain McKenzie, right?!"

An 'Ooops' nearly slipped through her lips as she realised that she'd just revealed that they were betting on him – or in McKenzie's case, against him. If she thought about it, that was a little bit macabre...

To her utter surprise, Martinez' face suddenly lit up, and he gaped at her, his brown eyes wide in shock as he stuttered: "You're betting on me? I'm surprised that you have so much faith in me, Ma'am. I guess that leaves me with no other choice."

Tessa cocked an eyebrow and opened and closed her mouth in disbelief a few times, puzzled about what had just happened, then she asked: "Seriously? I try hard to find inspirational words and the only thing that really motivates you is a bet?"

"I'm a mystery, Ma'am," he answered with a wink, and she shook her head before gesturing towards the shooting range with a smirk.

"Whatever works for you. But just so you know: I'm not going to cuddle with you, Josie. You'll have to work hard, and I'm going to torture you even more than before. But it'll be worth it."

He gave her a weird look, obviously not amused about the nickname she'd given him, and then slipped off the table, taking the 9mm that he'd put down earlier with a determined nod.

OoO

Fred tried to pretend that he didn't really care about his chances concerning the bet with Johnson, but somewhere deep inside of him, he still felt a certain amount of curiosity that made him casually walk by the gym whenever he had the time. It was just because he wanted to see how their youngest team member was doing...

But deep down, he couldn't help but grin about what he was seeing when he happened to stop by; the mere sight of Martinez being in a headlock by the smaller Johnson was amusing, even though he would never have admitted that. He was oddly bent backwards because of their height difference, desperately trying to struggle his way out of her hold but failing. If there was one thing that Fred had to grant Johnson than it was the strength that she possessed, even though nobody would have thought that her body was capable of muster so much of it. There'd probably been dozens of people who'd underestimated her...

And he caught himself watching her smooth, nearly elegant movements with a little bit of awe as she maneuvered Martinez over the sparring mat like a puppet master, until the younger man slapped his palm against her forearm. She immediately let go of him, and Martinez' butt slammed onto the mat with a loud smack as he lost his balance, but he was on his feet again moments later, a little breathless as he said: "Again."

Fred decided that it was a good moment to leave; he'd seen enough for today, and though he repeatedly tried to tell himself that he didn't care if Johnson succeeded or not, a tiny bit of satisfaction was lingering inside of him. Not because he wanted to see Martinez fail, and the real reason was probably pathetic...

He shook his head as he walked down the hallway, trying not to think about all of it.

OoO

The last half of their training at the Alpha Site passed by quicker than any of them had anticipated, and soon they were gathering in the gym for their last hand to hand training. Tessa couldn't deny that she was nervous as Sergeant Howard asked her – she had no idea how he'd heard of the bet, but she guessed that he had his ways – and she could also tell that Martinez was close to fainting. They'd worked hard, packed all the time that hadn't been occupied with extra training, and in her opinion, it had been worth the stress and exhaustion.

Martinez had made a lot of progress, and seeing what he could do had given him a big confidence boost, but seeing how pale he was as they got ready to sparr, she asked herself if he would be able to keep his nerves in check. Of course, she'd tried to prepare him for this, but then, it had also been her tactic to make Captain McKenzie think that he would be able to win the bet. Would their chick be able to handle the pressure?

He'd done a lot better in the last days, showing everyone that he was capable of a lot more than he'd shown earlier, but with McKenzie, she never knew if it was enough. Also, sparring against him was a bit different from training. She didn't really care about the bet anymore, she just hoped that he wouldn't lose his head.

OoO

Fred could see from the corner of his eye how Johnson mumbled some quick instructions into Martinez' ear as they prepared, her gaze wandering around the gym and briefly meeting his. Her expression was challenging, and he just knew that she would have him by the balls if he tried to pull any funny tricks – not that he could think of any.

Martinez appeared to be horribly nervous as they both stepped onto the mat; he was chewing on his lower lip for a moment, and he even turned around to Johnson again, who was giving him a curt nod. Seeing how he fidgeted with the bandages that were slung around his hands, Fred couldn't help but feel a lot more confident – he looked like he was about to lose his breakfast, and this surely would be over in a few minutes.

Normally, some people would cheer on their comrades if there happened to be a sparring match, but this time, it was scaringly quiet in the gym, despite it not being exactly empty.

They started off slowly, circling each other, and Martinez blocked the few offensive movements that Fred made. He wasn't the fastest yet, but Fred had to admit that he'd definitely made some progress in the meantime.

As their sparring session went on, it slowly dawned on him that Johnson must have shown Martinez a few of her secret tricks. More than once was he able to get very close to bringing Fred into a critical position, and in one unguarded second, he managed to get hold of him. Fred gasped in shock as he felt himself hitting the mat, and he blinked in surprise as he realised what had just happened.

For a long moment, there was silence, and he raised his head to look at Martinez, whose expression was just as shocked. He obviously couldn't believe what he'd just done, even as Johnson and Howard started to clap appreciatively, and of course Fred could spot the tiniest hint of a triumphant smile on his 2IC's face.

If he was honest with himself, it annoyed him a lot, but secretly, he was also impressed by what she'd managed to make out of Martinez in such a short time. It was something he'd hoped for to happen, as it surely would have brought some conflict into the still fresh team if they'd already been forced to exchange a team member. And so it was genuine when he pushed himself to his feet and nodded at the young Airman, saying: "Nice move."

"Th-thank you, Sir," Martinez answered, his eyes gleaming, and the relief was obvious on his face.

"Does that mean that we'll get to keep him, Sir?" Johnson asked innocently, and Fred nearly started laughing as he looked her into the eyes, seeing amusement sparkle in the green depths. Though she didn't say anything, he knew exactly that she was referring to their little bet.

"Only if you continue to have an eye on him, Captain."

OoO

Joseph still couldn't believe that he would really be allowed to stay on the team as he walked down them ramp in the SGC, hearing the wormhole collapse behind them. The short debriefing with General Hammond, during which SG-12 was officially called back into active duty, passed by in a blur, and before he knew it he was sitting in a bar with Sergeant Howard, drinking a beer to celebrate. It was a little bit awkward at first, and he didn't know what to say, but then they managed to slip into an easy conversation.

The Sergeant was a relaxed, laid back man, Joseph realised after some time, and his company was pleasant. Halfway through their second beer, they were having a discussion of American Football against Baseball when one of the chairs of their table was pulled backwards and from the corner of his eye, he caught a glance at some brown hair.

"I know, I can't sit with you," Johnson said as she sat down, setting down her gin tonic, her eyes focused on Howard. "In case anybody you know comes by, tell them I tried to annoy you with some stuff for our next mission."

Joseph looked between them in confusion, not quite understanding what was going on as Howard nodded, replying: "I see you know how the games goes."

"Yeah."

She shrugged and took a sip of her drink while Howard leaned over to Joseph and whispered into his ear: "There are many people who don't like seeing officers hanging around with enlisted grades. SGC isn't that stern on it mostly, but there are still enough who'll scoff about this."

"Oh," Joseph made, biting his lip – of course, he'd heard of this unspoken rule, but he personally felt like it wasn't making much sense. They would be working together very closely, see each other nearly every day and he'd already seen how close some of the teams came to the term 'family', so he didn't understand why social conventions should keep them from having a drink together.

"Well, I don't mind you sitting with us, Ma'am," he said out loud, smiling at the woman, and she smiled back. Joseph felt grateful for what she'd done, and he was about to open his mouth to give her the 'Thank You' she deserved, she raised her hand, as if she was seeing it coming.

"We're proud of you, Josie. But it's not over yet."

Howard raised an eyebrow about the nickname she'd given him, but to Joseph's horror, he shrugged and added: "Yeah, Josie, you still got a lot of work to do."

"Why do I feel like I'll never get rid of that nickname?" Joseph muttered, a little bit of annoyance settling in his stomach, his ears red in embarrassment, but he could also not prevent himself from smirking.

OoO

Fred normally wasn't the kind of person who randomly went to get a drink, but the last weeks on the Alpha Site had been quite challenging and exhausting, showing him that it was hard to lead a team and even more to make one out of four individuals. And so he found himself walking into a bar in the city, ordering a whiskey as he saw three familiar faces sitting at a table in the back of the bar, laughing loudly. It was a coincidence, and they probably wouldn't have spotted him, but somehow his body worked on autopilot, causing him to grab his drink as it arrived and walk over to them.

Martinez was the first one seeing him, more hanging than sitting on his chair as he exclaimed: "Oh, hi Cap!"

Johnson and Howard turned their heads, surprised, and Fred shuffled a tiny bit as he saw Johnson grin; her face was red, and a few stray strands of hair were falling from her ponytail. "Sir, how nice. Boys, drinks are on our CO tonight!"

Fred frowned while she pushed the chair next to her out, slurring slightly as she added: "Sit. Drink. Smile."

He threw her an irritated glance as he obeyed, pulling a one hundred dollar note out of his pocket and handing it to her, asking: "How many did you guys drink already?"

It surely was an amusing sight to see them like this, all a bit dishevelled and loosened up, but it also made him feel oddly out of place. Johnson just grinned at the note, winking as she cooed: "Well, hello Mr Franklin."

Howard looked at his glass with an expression of high concentration, then he shrugged. "A lot. And for a small person you can really take a lot. We'll get the next round."

He grabbed Martinez by the upper arm and the younger man stumbled onto his feet, leaving Fred alone with Johnson. She smirked smugly at him, fanning herself with the hundred dollar note, then she stated: "You wouldn't have thrown him out."

"No, I wouldn't have. I just wanted to see him making an effort, and I thought that maybe you had a way to motivate him and find out what his problem is," Fred explained with a nod, taking a sip from his whiskey.

Johnson rolled her eyes, irritating him again, then she shot back: "Yeah, because I'm so motherly and sweet."

"I never said that," Fred replied stiffly, feeling how his ears started to glow, giving away that he may have thought just that when he'd had the idea of asking her to take care of Martinez.

Johnson gave him a 'Don't fuck around with me' look and took another sip of her drink, saying: "Well, I had fun. And now I have fun and a hundred bucks. I love this job."

 _End of Episode 2..._


End file.
